” “By all means,” Brendon answered. “Why not?” he exclaimed. Her acrid rose perfume oil that hung in the air that smelled like a head shop, her V. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. ’ An expression of livid fury contorted the young man’s face and he thrust the coins back at the major.
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