And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. ‘Must be another of her lies. ” Anna laughed, gave in and with deft fingers created order out of chaos. " She had no reason to doubt him. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir. As time went on, she began to think Martha had been mistaken.
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