She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. A shiver slid down inside her. Martha had not been pleased to find her spare one borrowed for that expedition when the major had found her outside the ballroom. From your pocket there.
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