The knight and his followers crossed the threshold, leaving one of the torch-bearers behind them. As a matter of fact I have been waiting for you. He turned. As to following, there was no one. Wood turned to look at him. His mouth was sensuous but his eyes became frenetic. “He is not—I don’t like him. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. In the north they called her Manitou, in the south, Pabothkew. But be patient, I am your fast friend.
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