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She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. “I—I am sorry—I didn’t explain. " "Graves. ” She replied. Where is he?" "Within this room," replied the knight.
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