She was the High Priestess. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. Or he would find something—a wave in her hair, a little line in the contour of her brow or neck, that made an exquisite discovery. ‘Tee-ree-sa. We have both tried hard to develop it—you and I —and we have failed.
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