Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. "Come on, my lads!" vociferated Blueskin, "we'll unkennel the old fox.
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