She could think of nothing more to say. Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. This was not the sort of confession which he had been expecting. The three young men exchanged expressive glances. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me. She ran away from you; and now I can easily understand why.
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