Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. “I wonder,” he said, “is there anything we could do to help you to get rid of him?” “Can you think of anything?” Anna answered. You are my prisoner, murderer. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below.
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