No work that offered was at all of the quality she had vaguely postulated for herself. "He thwarted my schemes twice. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. Are you doing okay in that shirt? You seem uncomfortable. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. "Make it known among your friends. I don’t want you to be sad.
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