Through yet another doorway she observed an ancient silk brocade loom. Oh, you must believe me. Romance! The romance of passing faces, of wires that carried voices and words to the far ends of the world, of tremendous mechanisms that propelled ships and trains! And, oh the beautiful books! She swiftly knelt upon the floor and once more gathered the books to her heart. You simply can’t. "Where is your accursed master?" demanded Blueskin, holding the sword to his throat. Capes agreed with the utmost cordiality. There was now a girl in the picture, so it seemed.
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