“Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. Chairs were overturned. Folding his arms, he placed his back against the door, and burst into a loud laugh. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and I believe that you love me. “Fighting goes with loads of its own baggage, John. She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony.
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