There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. Dump popped his head into the cage. "We're all damaged—we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices. A strong coarse man, and there were things in his eyes which made my blood run cold with terror. She is the image of what I was like, and she has a better voice. I'll be at the Cross Shovels in the course of the day.
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