“Tell me his name,” he said, “and I promise that he shall never trouble you. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally. Don't ask any more questions. It seemed that within an instant the Pestilence struck, and she begged me on her deathbed to shelter you and her grandson for the rest of your lives, as she could see that even though I was a ‘demon fiend’ and ‘minor devil’ that I loved you.
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