His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue. The lady, who was indeed stunning, Gerald suddenly realised, said never a word. Killed is too kind a word. ’ Authority had won again, Gerald thought with satisfaction. Then to Dan Ware's, in Hanging Sword Court. Did she suppose him a possible pretender to her daughter’s hand? The girl—Dorothée, if memory served—was clearly marriageable, but he imagined most of these unhappy exiles were all but penniless. “I am glad,” she told herself, “I came.
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