"When in France, I heard from the Marshal that his brother had perished in London on the night of the Great Storm. He drew her to him and tipped her chin towards him. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man. She painted on the Root Beer Lip Smackers lip gloss that Shari had bought her last Christmas and rouged her cheeks as she had long ago as she once had for Sebastian. Her elbows were ready.
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