‘Imbecile. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. Give me the keys and the light. I don’t think that the rest of the people here like us very well, do they, Arthur, so we’re obliged to be friends.
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