She heard the ocean in the distance, waves crashing on the beach, high tide. Sheppard; "and to-day is Monday. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind.
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