“I’d rather go as a chorus-girl,” she said. She would write to Gerald. Good night. 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. "I'll need a job when I quit this bed. Water sprung from the corners of the school roof, turning it into a gigantic fountain. Unless—’ Something clicked in his mind and he stared at his friend without seeing him. Now the sense of beauty was spreading to a multitude of hitherto unsuspected aspects of the world about her.
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