And yet he knew clearly and definitely what he purposed to do, what the future would be. How perfectly charming. Uttering a terrible imprecation, Blueskin placed the knife between his teeth, and endeavoured to seize the poor woman by the throat. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. “Fuck you, Julian Rimbauer.
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