We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. Yet there was nothing for her to do. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. Only I wish that it did not remind one so much of a second-hand clothes shop. He only laughed his defiance. Of you—an angel with one wing. We've got to get him to care.
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