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Unformatted text preview: walking shoes." He turned and bent down and started to pull off her shoes. People were staring at him. It occurred to her that it wasn't at all unusual for him to behave like this. It was typical. He had a madman's judgment; a madman's naivete. "I'll do it," she said. They went back upstairs. He watched as she dressed for the cold outdoors. She came out fit for a long night of exploration, walking shoes laced over wool socks. It seemed they walked an endless time down the slope and then along the banks of the loch. The half-moon illuminated the jagged and broken walls of the castle. The cliffs were perilous, but there were well-worn paths. He climbed the path, pulling her along with him. The archaeologists had set up barriers, signs, warnings, but there was no one around. They went where they chose to go. New wooden staircases had been built in the high half-ruined towers, and down into dungeons. He crept ahead of her, very surefooted, and almost frenzied. It occurred to her that this might b...
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- Spring '10