It was the first day you kissed me, under the willows, coming into Veraz. ’ ‘That’s fortunate,’ murmured Lucilla. She needed to protect the baby. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. "Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. ‘Go on, Gerald.
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