"Zounds!" cried Kneebone, furiously. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. " "So have we all. We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are.
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