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how either of them put up with the other was beyond her. Maybe relentless gloom and persistent sunshine were the right combination.
“Ready?� she asked. Nina clutched the rope. “To be lowered like a sack of flour into the heart of witchhunter power?� “This was your idea. We can still turn around.� “Do not second-guess the sack of flour. The sack of flour is wise beyond her years.�