I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. Valade accorded the major’s greeting a brief nod and gave his attention back to St Erme. “I’ve gotta go. Sometimes I think you would have been much better off if you had been born in death-worshipping Egypt instead of in the Fourteenth Century. “John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. The end of the world seemed at hand. I'm not hungry. ‘Go on, Gerald.
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