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And the harrying and burning at Rhyll, when the mother and her babes perished. No, you weren't there, Tad, but you know and I know who was. Ah, Tad, she's crying to God that mother, and holding the little dead things in her hands, close up to his face. And now you'd murder Llyn, for all he's ever been for peace." "Hush-s-sh! not so loud, Gwen." "Not so loud! not so loud!" she jibed bitterly.
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