” “But what are you going to do—where are you going to live?” Annabel asked. "My demeanour ought to convince you that I came with no hostile intention. Wood hadn't struck me. 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. "Aliva, your child perished with its father. I don’t have to take this shit. But it was otherwise with the carpenter. She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this.
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