Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. "I suppose it didn't drop through the ceiling, did it? Are you quite sure it's flesh and blood?" asked he, playfully pinching its arm till it cried out with pain. "Whatever you say—you, behind those stars there, if you are a God. “I will take my chance.
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