And let us go on with our evening. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. The soi-disant Valade escapes and takes my proof, which I have broken on his head. ‘As for your dagger—’ She held out her hand palm up, as if she expected him to give her the weapon. His energy began to slip away and she sank her teeth into his fat carotid artery below the piano wire, which had drawn blood from his neck.
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