Kneebone. ‘We will converse in your own tongue,’ he said in French as he led her away. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. Saws, hammers, planes, axes, augers, adzes, chisels, gimblets, and an endless variety of tools were ranged, like a stand of martial weapons at an armoury, in racks against the walls. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black. “Who?” She asked. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently.
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