Clear water gave away to gray as she waded deeper, feeling her slippers on rock. . The watermen, who manned the larger wherry, immediately shipped their oars, grappled with the drifting skiff, and held it fast. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. ‘In that case, he is probably already dead, and you have nothing to worry about. ‘Do that again,’ he said softly, ‘and I’ll make you sorry you ever came to England.
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