He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point. She fell asleep instantaneously, fatigued from weeks of exhaustion. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. ‘She’s gone.
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