Enschede halted. She had adored the stupid thing, and kept it in her pocket for about ten years. ’ ‘Precisely,’ Gerald repeated. There’s nothing a girl can do that isn’t sweated to the bone. It probably had its own repulsive oubliette in the bottom, where tiny princesses could fall and break their necks. She felt that she was not alone. She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end.
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