Her father was an astute businessman and a hard worker, but also handsome in the face which had aided partly his ascension to the Guild. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. It was past seven when she got back to her hotel. It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. It will serve you out if I give her dagger back to mademoiselle, so that she can plunge it right into your chest.
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