She wore a wonderful dress of turquoise blue, made by a great dressmaker for a function which she knew very well now that she would never attend. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. “I love you, Anna, and I want you for my wife. ” “Delusion!” he muttered, glaring at her. ‘You will have to prove it, you know,’ Gerald said quietly.
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