She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. But I don’t suppose you can understand. She had been careless. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. “I’m damned if I’ll believe it,” he muttered to himself savagely. If she wanted men to battle beasts in combat, a festival arose for them to battle for her.
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