Sheppard. Berserker, Spurlock rose, head down, and charged. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. The pavement had been hastily picked up, and heaped across the end of the street, upon which planks, barrels, and other barricades, were laid. ‘What do you say of these troops?’ ‘You see, we’re militia. He tried to make love to me.
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