She was frightfully hungry. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. A mutual recognition took place at the same instant between the stranger and this individual. ’ ‘Militia, miss,’ Kimble corrected her.
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