We must never let your father know we went. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. “You know that I have always hated this!” She 264 looked down at Michelle’s pitifully bloody head, her body barely hanging on to its breath. Perhaps I may borrow yours one day?’ ‘Lucilla, you wretch,’ burst from the captain.
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