She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. Like most officers, he’d had it especially made, for a man who loved danger had need of a precision instrument of defence. ” “I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine. I didn’t understand.
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