She had hardly noticed the loss of her dagger, so strong had been the waves of relief that attacked her on hearing that Jack had returned from death’s door. The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. We've got to get him to care. She allowed herself to be ejected, therefore, and retired to the parlour after cleansing the blood from her hands and her own slight wound in the kitchen. He had made it even easier by walking up the steps instead of taking the elevator. So I've grown hard—outside.
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