She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. " "Take hence this boy, then," rejoined Trenchard; "his looks unman me. . She could see that she was now the exclusive object of the boy’s attention.
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