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I take more than their blood, John. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. "My father!" she whispered. Michelle looked at their reflections in the wall mirror. I don’t care what divides us. “I want my life to be beaten gold just in order to make it a fitting setting for yours. “Was it terrible for you after he died?” “Don’t worry yourself about it John. “She is marvellously clever,” he said. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. didn’t have to.
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