I did, he replied, wondering at the topic and what might be behind it. It was found, I believe, not long before I arrived. Did anyone ever find out who he was?
Scyld wondered, not for the first time, who it might have been, and whether he had known him though when he had first arrived, he had had more pressing issues on his mind than the identity of an unrecognizable body. He supposed that he probably had, but it mattered little to him. It was not as though he might have been a friend.
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