Panic leapt into his eyes as he brought his wrist up just in time to parry the blade. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. She shook her head, almost breaking a smile. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. She 191 picked up the remote, usurping it of its dividing status between their bodies. It fell with a clatter to the floor.
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