The troops had kept a large space clear around the gallows. He dropped the key on the counterpane. A bad man, in fact. It would be protective; it would with age turn to silver unnoticeably. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. If you don’t think it would be a social outrage, perhaps I might walk with you to your railway station. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones.
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