“You too were deceived. ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. “It’s not for us to supplicate any more. There’d only be endless rows if I was at home. “Thanks to you. She got up and unlocked the door. 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. ” The hand lingered too long.
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