The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. Money was not necessary; indeed, it would have embarrassed all concerned. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. ‘Where did you get that, miss?’ ‘It is the sword of monsieur le major. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over.
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