If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. Planting his knee against her side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while with the other he sought his knife. In privacy he read and reread it a dozen times, and eventually destroyed it by fire. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too.
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