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‘I could perish today,’ occurred to the goddess of the night.
The thought was calm. Most of her thoughts were calm. Nightingale prided herself on her tranquillity. It was the quiet of her being that had driven her to the night. The identification with the low light and diminished activity after the day. The adoration of the little pockets of flaring energy, whether that was the ball of the nobles, the party of the students, or the quiet contemplations of the individual who sat by t ...
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