Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. She positioned it over her arm, placing the firing end in Rhea’s mouth.
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