She studied her form in the full length mirror, assessed 69 her body as one would that of a prize calf, trying to see it through his eyes, through the eyes of desire. Mr. Posts were offered to all who chose to accept them. She raided their settlements in shifts, staggering her kills from tribe to tribe, undiscriminating of their petty politics. ‘Jacques! This—this bête he attacks me, and you stand there and you do nothing. Seems as she don’t trust soldiers easy. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere.
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