As for this infatuation—it’s like some obsession, some magic thing laid upon you. Only Gwen left a letter on the pincushion. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. “Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark.
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