She regarded him coldly, as though wondering whether he had anything further to say. ‘Then it is that you will have pity? Here we have come, we poor, for aid. "But, though the storm has spared him, I will not. You heard her. John picked it up and put it in her hands. Just speak the word," he added, drawing the knife significantly across his throat, "and I'll put it out of his power to do the same by your second. He moved to one side, bowing and gesturing to the door. Then her eyes flashed.
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