He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. She'll be mighty interesting to watch. The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. Which is also puzzling. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad.
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