Sheppard, distractedly. What was his problem, she thought to herself. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. Why should I?” “At last,” he murmured, “at last I have found you. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. Because their human lives were so short, the happily married had no time to get sick of one another.
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