‘Pardon, milor’,’ said Valade, ‘but Monsieur Charvill, he was not at fault. “You’re just a boy! You grow moody and spellbound, John, and the next moment you are ecstatic. Mounting the door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the wall above, and quickly drew himself up. Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. I almost wish we hadn't come.
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