In a few minutes more he had made a breach in the roof wide enough to allow him to pass through. Stanley’s pace slackened. The curve of his shoulders, the very angle of his feet, expressed relief at her apparent obedience. Vorsack sat alone at his computer in his pajamas. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. He would have to go on; he would be forced to enact all the obligations he had imposed upon himself.
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