" "You, Miss Enschede?"—frankly astonished that one stranger should offer succour to another. The watcher's intake of breath was sibilant. “Where were you?” He inquired, rubbing her shoulders. The brilliant sunshine poured through the window, effecting an oblong block of mote-swimming light. There was a certain air of forced fortuity in his manner. Wood strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the flying skiff.
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