” “I’m a married man. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme. . “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you. . The man was my husband.
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