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“I want to find an address. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. I will pray for you. A dozen shynesses and intellectual barriers were being outflanked or broken down in her mind.
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