"Ay, what's the matter, boy!" reiterated Jackson sternly. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. ’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. . ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. Suddenly a half stifled exclamation broke from Anna’s lips.
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