The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. He would have to go on; he would be forced to enact all the obligations he had imposed upon himself. She turned and looked at the red LED of the alarm clock that read 3:55. ” He was strangely silent. " The Wastrel rushed. She required no instructions from books; her wit and beauty were her own. ‘That’s wicked, that is. “He fell over at my feet,” she continued.
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