"Any price was better than your head. Abruptly would come the end. Anna, who was disposed to be sharply critical, could find no fault with it. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. Then she saw the bodies piled in the corner. Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves.
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