‘Coward,’ she threw at him, brandishing the sword. And look down, so. A little inn flying a Swiss flag nestles under a great rock, and there they put aside their knapsacks and lunched and rested in the mid-day shadow of the gorge and the scent of resin. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. Good riddance. Lucilla clearly adored her betrothed, anyone could see that.
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