She had never thought of him at all in that way before. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person. “Turn me. She wet some absorbent cotton with alcohol and refreshed his face and neck. So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom.
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