‘Bête,’ she flung at him. Listen to me, Thames. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. ‘Either you tell me why you want the wretched animal, or it stays here. His face changed and she saw, with a stab at her heart, the dawning of irritation in his eyes. Taber? There is a possibility. She glanced into his face. ” She replied weakly.
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