Cathy answered the phone. ” “It is ironic that you say that, John, for it is I who am afraid of you. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it. She longed to own something lasting, anything, but knew her wishes to be stupid. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. I want to leave it for ever. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes.
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