Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Rhea went down, screeching and clawing at the air for the sword, which clanked heavily on the ground. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. I want to be very plain with you. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check. ‘Of course. I just want him, and no one else will do. No instrument I've ever used has done me such good service.
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