You know what men are when there’s nobody ordering them to be better. They don’t need Old Tom whispering suggestions in their ear. Evil comes from in here.” He hammered his chest. “It’s born in us. It’s what we are when you take away the uniforms and the ranks and the order.” Sara hadn’t needed a battlefield to teach her that lesson. Her entire life had been spent in study of men. Not from love or admiration, as was the proper way for a woman, but from fear. Men were dangerous. They were fickle of mood, liable to lash out when disappointed, and they were frequently disappointed—most often by
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