“I was sick of the make-believe. Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. What he wanted desperately was to be alone. That's why I'm so anxious to get her to a haven. " "Impossible, Sir," replied Ireton, greatly alarmed. " So saying, he advanced towards the window, threw open the sash, and called out in the voice of Thames Darrell, "Who's there?" He was answered by a shot from a pistol.
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