Nigel, you have not forgotten!” “No,” he said, with a little bitter smile. She came to spend hours with the bastard children that the women brought, dressing and feeding the tiny ones, inventing games for the older ones. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. She was no longer a confederate in that.
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