He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. Our men had him fast, held down in a chair. Forgetting the dark thoughts of his last brush with the girl, he dropped the dagger back in his pocket, quickened his pace, and went back into the house to look for his hostess. For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. "Every honest man, Sir! He helps us to our own again.
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