You’re a piss-poor liar, John. I don’t want you to talk to me now. Wood heard the cry. Then he turned to Anna. “Listen,” she said. The effort of self-repression cost him a sob. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. It gave her great satisfaction to hear that Madame Chamberlain had spent a night in the county jail, even if the nocturnal activities picked right up again after two weeks. Loving was self-forgetfulness, pure delighting in another human being. ’ ‘I do.
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