And now Ann Veronica’s evenings were also becoming very busy. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me. When the disillusion comes, when the fairy story ends, if she is blessed with children, she doesn't mind. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife.
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