Soon, she was sure, she wouldn’t have the energy to wake up in the morning on the sand that was such a comfortable, if barren, mattress and she woul... simply lie there until she was torn apart by the vultures that occasionally perched on the palm trees or the gulls that swooped on the carcass of any seal or manatee that had dragged itself onto the shore. Demure, however, was the more resilient woman even though her life amongst the Knights had been one of luxury. She would complain far more. "Thank you for coming to me, Jimmy," He said. "I understand your dilemma. This is an issue that we all struggle with, but for our society to survive we have to have boundaries, lines that we don't cross. Sometimes those lines get blurry and people stray. It's our job to steer them back on course. If you're really concerned, talk to Ceres; let him know you found the painting, take him a picture of it or something. Get him to turn himself in — not to the police but to the insurance company —. "I am sorry and I wish to thank you both for saving my life." Now what do we do?" Dunin asked, looking around the room."We need to contact the Undertaker, the City Guard, and my House to make arrangements for a burial," Anastasia began. "I also have something personal to do before I leave to find Rac-Nur. I will stay for the funeral but then I must be off." We must be off," Dunin countered. "Beriwen must return to her home. There are things she has to see to, but I am going after whoever killed. It's, uh, nothing."Then she finally glanced down and saw that he really did have an extremely prominent bulge in his shorts. She nearly swooned. Oh God! Dear Lord! Just look at that! He's so, he's so ... HUGE! It IS twice the size of Ron's, at the very least! (Actually, it wasn't, but her imagination was running wild.)She was so hot and bothered that she started panting, causing her chest to heave up and down. Her shirt was so oversized that there was very little keeping it up. All that heaving.