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That was one of the compensations for having consigned himself to this part of the world. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. It was my destiny to have her. ‘Yes, that is what the nuns they said of me. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words.
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