You know you do, Annabel. He was disquieted. Tell me that again. I seek chaos, but not out of choice. ‘I think you’ve gone stark, staring crazy. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk.
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