Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. . It was the only way to make the monthly bills. ” She threw away the end of her cigarette. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. ’ Fury rippled again. “Look at me. That really settles about that.
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