Jonathan smiled contemptuously. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. From the slight sounds that had reached him in his place of confinement, he was aware that some persons had found their way to the scene of slaughter, and in a state of the most intense anxiety awaited the result of their investigation, prepared for the worst.
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