“Go from me, husband!” With a flourish he brought her arms behind her and her body was slammed to the floor. "Is it gold?" "Pure gold," replied Kneebone. Families had seen their lands seized, their chateaux ransacked or burned, and those unlucky enough to have failed to anticipate disaster, had been murdered or dragged away to gaol. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them.
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