Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. The children made us slaves, and the men took advantage of it. That’s the wonder of it. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. The entrance was concealed between two huge boulders within a clump of trees, and was now so overgrown that no one who did not know of its existence could ever hope to find it. ‘You are not the only one to seek them out,’ he said.
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