The sharp point of the sword at the girl’s throat bit sideways. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. “I have a letter for him from his brother, which I was just leaving. She had treated him badly; she had hurt him and her aunt; she had done wrong by their standards, and she would never persuade them that she had done right.
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