167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. She would meet him upon this ground: he should never be given the slightest hint that she was unhappy. She inhaled a deep breath of air—London air. \" Said John as he piled the papery remnants of their meal onto the tray. ’ He nodded.
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