As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. "I am quite easy now; receive my blessing, my dear son; and if we never meet again, rest assured my last prayer shall be for you. Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. “It may be true, but it isn’t quite what I have in mind.
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