She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. I don’t care! I’m glad I did. She limited herself to eating once a fortnight, until she discovered that she could go without comfortably for a month. Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. There was no answer. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby.
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