I feel like a fraudulent trustee. They leave them out of novels—these incompatibilities. ’ Gerald gazed at her without expression. The floor was planked with oak, and covered with iron staples, hooks, and ringbolts, with heavy chains attached to them. She could not see any relief from this anxiety except repayment, and repayment seemed impossible. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. She did not remember how many seasons it took before she relented, how much time before she decided to toy with his affections.
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