He must not in any way call their attention to it. “How dare you? You are trying to kidnap my babies!” Clotilde demanded. A group of ten began emerging outside the ticket area. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. She felt her chest trying to float up, but the blessed undertow, the dreaded reason why she was warned to never bathe in the ocean, sucked her feet down, putting the decision where it belonged, into the hands of God.
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