‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. ’ It took several frustrating moments, working at the protrusions of the carving down the side of the bookshelves, tugging at leaves, pushing at flowers. “Here goes,” he said. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. He embraced her fully.
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