‘Silence,’ he warned again, with a prod of the dagger at her heart. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. And, while the turnkey was busy with the keys, she whispered to the black, "Follow him, Caliban.
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