Very slowly, very fearfully, she turned her head. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. I had special ways of getting out of the basement without them noticing, and often I could smuggle a child or two out for 160 the day and they were never the wiser. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. I find you were excessively brave, mon pauvre. Funk! I’ll see it out. We’re handfuls.
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