Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. "Why, you don't think as how they're crimps, do you?" Ben inquired. Gradually McClintock shifted the burden to Spurlock's shoulders and retired among his books and music rolls. Neither of them believed me.
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