His cheeks were puffy, and his eyes blood-shot. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. With a cry of triumph, he rose, the sword hilt grasped in his fingers, the point swishing up towards her. ‘Go you through the passage and find the other door. ‘I should not dream of forcing my attentions on you. ‘I have a very good mind to do so, imbecile.
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