Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess. "We're forgetting," he said. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. His heir is dead, yes, and his name and title available to me. ” “That sounds very interesting,” she answered coolly. He's the only native I trust in these parts.
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