He moaned. Which is why I wasn’t able to see him until today. At least I imagine so, if what Madame Valade claims is true. When she awoke from a pleasant dream an hour later, she was shocked to find herself restrained in a bed that was not hers and not the inn’s. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs. You cannot—shall not retreat.
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