She still could not muster the strength to leave. “I have a letter for him from his brother, which I was just leaving. "Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. I’ve never had a homemade Thanksgiving meal like that. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you so badly,’ he said, still meeting her eyes, unaware that his hold about her hand had tightened a little.
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