"Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. I want to get away—to go to London. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. I like high tone for a flourish and stars and ideas; but I want my things. ” “And I also,” Brendon echoed.
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