She crushed the letter in her hand. ‘—and I love your raven hair, and your bright blue eyes, and your very kissable lips—’ suiting the action to the words ‘—and I love the crazy way you speak English, and the way you curse at me. His conscience never told him to go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to the deed itself. She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. " "That is your fault, none of mine. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone.
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