Still, here we are in this dingy, foggy city. Her hair was held back in a filigreed barrette. I cannot let you go. ” John gestured. ” And to that, through vast rhetorical meanderings, she clung. She painted on the Root Beer Lip Smackers lip gloss that Shari had bought her last Christmas and rouged her cheeks as she had long ago as she once had for Sebastian. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again. “Go on!” she commanded.
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