Lucy's grin faded. She loved for him to regale her with the stories of his past, the days of ancient Greece. She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. 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. "Have the aromatic spirits of ammonia sent to Mr. A crisis had been reached, and she was almost glad it had been reached.
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