"'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. And she had not dressed herself in this habit of a blue so much like the sky just for his sake, no matter that Lucy had said how much this colour suited with her eyes. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. ” He said admiringly. " The knight staggered as if struck by a mortal wound.
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