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Synopsis

Rebecca Mary took another stitch. Then another. “Ninety-sevvun, ninety-eight, ” she counted aloud, her little pointed face gravely intent. She waited the briefest possible space before she took ninety-nine. It was getting very close to the Time now. “At the hundred an' oneth, ” Rebecca Mary whispered. “It's almost it. ” Her breath came quicker under her tight little dress. Between her thin, light eyebrows a crease deepened anxiously.

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