She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. "I had to give in to him. So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man.
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