She hugged Lucy, who had finished eating. She rested her head upon his shoulder. The law would accord her all her previous rights: she would return to the exact status out of which in his madness he had taken her. For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. But Sheppard was not to be silenced. “You yourself have decided that—apart from the question of Annabel. My birthday was on May first.
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