Rhea spun round and sank her teeth into Lucy’s arm. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. I’d need to be out of my senses. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. He felt that he was getting on with her very slowly indeed, but he did not see how he could get on faster.
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