[Somewhere not far from the castle main doors, there is an angel sat in a pile of leaves with an ancient set of tubes, socket and tarpaulin. He's got some instructions weighted down with a rock and has been studying them intently for the last five hours, repeating the same phrase to himself like a mantra, as though if he said it in just the right
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I cannot leave you alone, can I?
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Dat must be a lie. You could not be so happy to see me.
[She's kneeling beside the mess, barely casting it a second look.]
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