” “And you can’t?” “I don’t think I ought to control myself. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future. It was past seven when she got back to her hotel. Overjoyed beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently-insurmountable obstacle, Jack darted through the door. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely.
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