No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the author. " "I have often conjured up some frightful vision of the dead," murmured the knight, "but I never dreamed of an interview with the living. ‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. You are too kind.
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