“I believe so. “Who killed her husband?” “Go and nurse him, missus!” “Murderess!” Anna looked from left to right. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. “I want you so much, Lucy.
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