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His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. ‘I’ll play you at your own game,’ he growled, holding the foreshortened foil in place with rigid control. Wouldn't take my advice. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John. I admired your chivalry. ” 74 She hung up the phone.
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