“It is a pity that as nations we are not more friendly. ” She pulled a small blue box out of the pocket of her hoodie. ‘How do you like England?’ ‘People have been very kind,’ Valade said, answering for them both. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it.
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