She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. I know all about it. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. She would flee to the wild fastnesses, the places where there were no overarching systems of any use, where she could blend with the unstable populace and kill in relative peace. But I do not even care if I am absurd. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating.
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