. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. As usual, however, on the occasion of any great calamity, a crowd was scouring the streets, whose sole object was plunder. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her.
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