Explore "The Tavern Knight" by Rafael Sabatini on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Towards midnight at last Sir Crispin flung down his cards and rose. It was close upon an hour and a half since Hogan's advent. In the streets the sounds had gradually died down, and peace seemed to reign again in Penrith. Yet was Sir Crispin cautious - for to be cautious and mistrustful of appearances was the lesson life had taught him.
-"Master Stewart," said he, "it grows late, and I doubt me you would be abed. Give you good night!"