He glanced at the ruins of his High Priestess. He could not possibly lunge in the confined space, and so had nothing to do but back himself into the chapel as fast as he could. When they came to the round-house, Terry's courage failed him. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. You must dispose of the goldsmith's note I gave you yesterday, as soon as you arrive at Rotterdam.
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