That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing. ’ ‘What name would you like, then?’ Her shadowed features turned in his direction. You have taken even my knife. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. ‘All right, Trodger. “Miserable bounder,” he murmured. All the king's horses and all the king's men could not undo what was done; nor kill the strange exquisite flower that had grown up in his own lonely heart. ’ He looked the girl up and down.
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