” She said. ” “No, mine. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. ’ She let out a peal of laughter. She loved for him to regale her with the stories of his past, the days of ancient Greece. He read but little, and that chiefly healthy light fiction with chromatic titles, The Red Sword, The Black Helmet, The Purple Robe, also in order “to distract his mind. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone.
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