She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. I can now give myself to God utterly; no human emotion will ever be shuttling in between. She was an Egyptian, from the magical times. Kneebone, or, as he would have preferred being styled, Captain Kneebone, was not perfectly satisfied with the recommendations forwarded by the applicants. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection.
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