” Her reverie broke, and she found herself still in front of the looking glass, a barrette hanging loosely from her hair. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. ‘To see Charvill. I overheard them planning your assassination. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. The wretch you confide in has sworn to hang you.
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