She told him the story of her parents, her marriage to Iovelli, the loss of her baby, the kidnapping after the miscarriage. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. ” She pulled a small blue box out of the pocket of her hoodie. She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat. We LIKED each other well enough.
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