5. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. There was no one at all in this room, but through the half-open door of one of the small apartments that gave upon it she had a glimpse of two very young girls sitting at a littered table and writing briskly. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. .
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