As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. “It was fine and brave of you. You are a girl with very little. My mother died the day I was born; that’s what they tell me. However, come along. No instrument I've ever used has done me such good service. It is very possible that he will ask you to tell him before witnesses how you received your wound.
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