Not a job he may care about; but he's a good sport. Not a breath was drawn. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast.
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