She pushed between the pews, hoping to reach the sword first, while desperately holding on to her petticoats to keep them up, as her sword arm wavered. Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. “Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. To Ah Cum, who was watching her covertly, the smile was like a bit of unexpected sunshine.
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