Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. “To your room!” Michelle cowered, her face flushed with anger. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. Sheppard was committed to the earth. Still, they bob up occasionally.
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