’ Her features broke apart in a laugh. “It is Michelle, John. I told you that at the outset. "I say we, because Miss Rachel and I have struck up a match. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Wild in his own domain. I love you.
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