’ She waved towards a handy table to one side which was piled high with so many volumes, it looked in imminent danger of crashing to the floor. David left this afternoon. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. "Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale. She wedged the towel between her legs. He then made a sort of running noose, passed it over her body, and taking firmly hold of the bars, prepared to guide her descent.
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