You must forgive the poet’s license I take. He was asleep. Shari was snoring soundly. "But calm yourself, dear sister, or the interview will be too much for you. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion. ‘How could you? No wonder mademoiselle is angry with you. He had an objective now. It must be the dawn creeping in. She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years.
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