She did not wait, but grabbed up the lantern and slid into the passage, calling to them to hurry. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone, the result of his innate fear of public speaking. Sheppard snatched back her hand from his grasp, and exerted all her force to repel his advances. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. "Come along, Blueskin. How dreary it all looks.
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