It never is. “Idiotic, isn’t it?” “Absolutely,” she agreed coldly. I’m sorry. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. She could run away from him, if she wished, as she had run away from her father; she could carry out the original adventure.
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