9. 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. . A delicate flush of colour streamed into her cheeks. " "Sir Rowland is dead," replied Jonathan, gloomily. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “but you appear to be a fellow countrywoman of mine, and in some distress. “What are you doing?” he asked. She pawed at him, her hunger for his body making her dizzy with anticipation.
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