" "Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack, fiercely; "but I've my knife. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come. But you could have just as easily lost your womb in the Pestilence, and your life. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room.
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