Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his song. This is part of a dream— some evil fancy. ” He leaned back in his chair as though wearied. I had no idea even that she was a friend of yours. That is not reasonable. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. Taking the direction pointed out, he rode off. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. He seemed to possess infinite reserves of patience when she refused him or purposely tried to bait and anger him, but his patience only made him seem more sinister. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell.
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