" "Can't ve call for asshistanche?" "And who'll find us, if we do?" rejoined Wild, fiercely. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. She dropped the locket into its sweet hiding place. This child at once alarmed and thrilled them. His blood would be sweet with it.
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