I want you to be my lover. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. “You were married to him!” “It could not be legal,” Annabel moaned. She taught him all the lore she had; about bird-life and tree-life and the changing mysteries of the sea. She felt the warm nearness of his. The room was dark and dusty. "Tell me frankly, and speak under your breath. I'm an old hand at such things.
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