" "Well," said Sister Prudence, "remember, I tried to save you some future heartaches. She closed her eyes and felt again an echo of the swamping warmth that had attacked her when his lips met hers. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us. .
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