She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. It’s odd how little I know of him, and of how he feels and what he feels. She mentally reprimanded herself to alter her own visage so as not to appear depraved. ” He looked at her thoughtfully.
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