But no more of that. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. “Difficulties indeed. Hell, my mom hates everyone, don’t take this personally, but she doesn’t like you very much and she isn’t shy about letting me know. Lost ground must be regained. Even if you were sick in the mind and did not understand what you were doing, it's a mighty cruel thing you have done.
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