. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. ” “But I can’t help but notice from your bookshelf that you read all sorts of horror and science fiction. Lucy looked down, noticing that Michelle had left her shoes in the entryway. “For luck.
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