She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. When he was up and about, the idea of flight would return. " "But I've got to go!" insisted Rollo, in perfectly understandable dog-talk. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. His hands came up, his face broke apart.
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