As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. “I was sick of the make-believe. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. Meanwhile, the executioner had attached strong cords to his ankles and wrists, and fastened them tightly to the iron rings. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room.
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