She was to have fifteen pounds, and no more. She found a clean sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, glad to trade the wet for the dry. Yes, I think we have thoroughly thrashed that one out. ‘But the major—’ ‘The major can say nothing at all. He kissed her fingers and grinned. We were only—les autres. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull.
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