He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. Lucy asked Michelle if “Pfister” kept the bras and panties of misfits for their trophy value, or perhaps sold them on the black market to perverted old men. Lucy grabbed the hand cannon, stuffing it with powder, nearly missing a swing of the sword meant for her neck.
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