He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him. “So I see that you have become content with your hardscrabble existence, your week-to-week survival, your Martin Chen!” “Who?” “Your limp-wristed lover!” “Um.
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