Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose. 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. Let us be friends—as near and close as friends can be. Maggot held up a lantern, which she found in the shop. ‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death.
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