167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad. Ennison’s manner was certainly not one of a willing host. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered. ‘And then you will be obliged to remain in France,’ she pointed out. Jack! Mon dieu, but he was unarmed. Slowly and ruefully she realized why marriage was so idealized among her generations of those before her. Stanley.
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