The militia offered little in the way of relief. “Why can’t we propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!. ’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. She could think of nothing more to say. ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. Something about the girl had suggested an idea.
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