Lucy cringed, her eyes widening. Every now and then something familiar in her tone, the poise of her head, the play of her eyes startled him. ” She rested the firing end of the cannon against her own temple. "You hesitate—you are deceiving me. You have the gift of words, but you haven't started to create yet. "You'll be as good as your word, my charmer," whispered the executioner. ‘You should not kiss me at all, and undoubtedly I should kill you.
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