I could not hear his heart beat. Shocked and appalled, she brought her left knee up fast, ramming his testicles swiftly. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. Ann Veronica jumped up to get her the cardtable. You have betrayed me.
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