"I thought I heard a noise. But we're neglecting the punch all this time. By this time, the door was unlocked, and drawing his sword, Quilt entered the cell. A shudder rippled across his shoulders. She had eaten them, murdered them routinely, and yet he loved her still. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs. You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry.
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