” “No doubt. “I will go,” he said. Understanding the appeal, the man snatched his master's sword from his grasp, and passed it through Darrell's body. By the time John returned with popcorn and a large Coke, the theater had filled up with high-school kids. I somehow understood. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations.
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