Manning,” she began. If you had any idea what depths people have sunken to as you reside safely in this high fortress, you would search your soul to find the mote of charity left there. Probably a sick man's whim. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. That was the true miracle of the gift; without actual experience, to imagine love and hate and greed and how they would react upon each other; and then, when these passions had served their temporary purpose, to cast them aside for new imaginings. It was necessary to think, and think quickly.
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