So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. "Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year. For me that is all over and done with. He placed his chin upon the top of her head. Never had he been so intrigued. ‘Let go!’ ‘Do you take me for a fool?’ Gerald demanded.
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