“Let me think,” said Ann Veronica. “You’re exactly as I remember you!” “Forever fifteen, remember?” She stepped closer to him into the light of the television screen. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. ’ ‘Well, sir? Who is “she”? Not my granddaughter, I take it. There was only one small grated window in this hold, which admitted but little light.
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