He grabbed her legs and threw the covers from the bed. ‘The credentials, milor’,’ he ventured. Happened to be at the Chariot, you know, with Trodger, and it’s review day. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. Wily little devil she is. The dog approached timidly, his tail going furiously.
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