Thank goodness there’s plenty of opportunity! And we two can talk. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. But no more of that. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. I’ve always wanted to look older. He had bled everywhere, but she had struck when the opportunity was ripe.
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