The truth at once flashed across his mind. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse. This time, there was no doubt, she did not sleep. “I repeat, gentlemen,” he said, in an ominously low tone, “what of it?” Drummond shrugged his shoulders.
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