She felt herself shaking again. True, on board the ships she had watched young men from afar, but only with that normal curiosity which is aroused in the presence of any new species. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. “Shit!” John quickly countered, “What are you going to do? She’s a motor-mouth, Lucy, of the worst kind.
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