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There was granite in her face and agate in her eyes. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. ‘But how do you come here?’ ‘Down on a routine patrol, unluckily for you,’ he answered grimly. The two girls put on shoes and started walking towards the north side of town. ” “John, do you remember me at all?” “Lucy?!” He cried in disbelief. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. If ever he requires my services, he shall find I'm not ungrateful.

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