As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. She chastised herself for thinking of her husband and lord as being weak. ’ She dropped to her knees before her old nurse and hugged the workroughened hand with both her own, looking up into Martha’s face where slow tears were tracing down her cheek. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you.
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