Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. \" He piped up. John has made me so happy, I’ve been losing myself in him. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. She could not help but swoon a little. “In two days,” she reflected, “Mrs. ‘She wants me to marry her. “Oh. How are you?” “I’m fine,” she said, unaware of all events except for the voice on the other line.
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