Rhea laughed and lunged for the broadsword that Sebastian had carelessly left lying on the ground. “I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. There followed a silence which endured several minutes; or, rather a tableau. Three a week is my allowance, and, if I get short ones, four. ‘What?’ ‘Nothing,’ snapped Roding, with an odd look at his bride to be that Gerald could not interpret. We'll turn the tables upon 'em yet. You’d think with as much dick as she gets that she’d cheer up. Goopes, she was sure was always high-browed and slow and Socratic.
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