“There wasn’t. . "Is this her work?" "It is," answered Thames. . . . " The object of this discussion sat motionless. Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. She turned away from the doorway of the silk loom to observe. It was just then that she came face to face with Nigel Ennison.
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