The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. I will always think of you with fondness, no matter what. ’ Her eyes narrowed. I wonder what it was. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded.
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