’ ‘Militia, miss,’ Kimble corrected her. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. Her expression was a little changed, less innocent, more discerning. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent.
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