She was always breaking rules, whispering asides, intimating signals. Here would be a woman perfectly unrecognizable, strong, ruthless but just. He was astonished. It’s Providence. ‘Good, good—and not before time,’ muttered Roding, glancing round again. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid.
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