She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. Before a month has elapsed, your mother will be mine. ” “A—what?” Anna asked. On reflection, it occurred to him that he might, perhaps, be able to loosen the iron fillet; a notion no sooner conceived than executed. ’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to have a mystery. His face darkened. 9. She looked away. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing.
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