He exhaled wearily. A knife appeared in her hand so suddenly, streaking for Mat's throat, that he would have been dead if he had not348A CROWN OF SWORDSbeen ready. The Light burn my soul, I hope you're right. He is no artist, but Elayne and Nynaeve are recognizable.
He hid from her, this morning. Sorilea's face grew stonier by the word. Alone, he picked at his meals, though less every day, and tried to read, though seldom, and attempted to find sleep. but that is more painful.
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