I was quiet. Pew could hear me thinking. He touched my head, in that strange, light way of his, like a cobweb. ‘It’s the gift. If one thing is taken away, another will be found.’ ‘Miss Pinch doesn’t say that, Miss Pinch says Life is a Steady Darkening Towards Night. She’s embroidered it above her oven.’ ‘Well, she never was the optimistic kind.’
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