The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. She had no place she loved. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. I am not a madman, or a pauper, or even an unreasonable person. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. Besides, I thought you despised killing women.
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