He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of calamity. Lucy stared like an automaton at Michelle’s unconscious 262 body, revolted at her own actions to the point of shock. On coming to himself, he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to bed with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. His eyes caught at hers with passionate inquiries. She would have to leave very soon. Vorsack would staunchly disapprove of his attire, said nothing anyway. His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. "Auntie?" he cried.
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