” Ann Veronica sat with her chin on her hand, red-lit and saying little, and Miss Miniver discoursed. When he awoke it was late in the day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained cloth bound across his brow. No one ate with as much passionate gusto as a teenager could. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. It feels like it.
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