“Do you need me to remind you that your patient is bleeding to death?” He dropped on his knees by the man’s side and made a hurried examination. A mate? A brother-lover to tromp about the world with? “I cannot. On their return, the jailers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his blood, and who appeared to be dying. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin.
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