He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. 32 The curtains and tapestries had appeared over the windows before Marina had died, growing moldy from the dampness and the oils of lavender, clove, and clary sage soaking them. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. Home!— which I never hoped to see again. As the Wastrel rushed, Spurlock sidestepped, swept the ball into his hand, set himself and threw it.
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