Leonardo was to me perhaps like a father, not a lover as you think. It is necessary. The likeness was ridiculous. “Oh, you can act!” she cried. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. He looked at his friend. ’ Pottiswick sucked at his teeth through the gaps. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees.
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