She felt the warm nearness of his. It did not matter that he wore the cloth; something was wrong with him. She used to play violin, you know. If it wasn’t for the fear that after all—but we won’t think of that. ” Annabel looked at her with terrified eyes. “So it’s like you’re a dead end?” He asked innocently. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively.
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