I told him the truth. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. Drawing the pay of life and then not living. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. I would have married her long ago, but she will not have me. “I don’t want children, Lucy. ” “Is it necessary to send for the police?” Anna asked. In each corner stood a stout square post reaching to the ceiling.
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