It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. ’ Kimble frowned direfully, staring at the weapon with its gold hilt and decorative pattern down the blade. Her moods were many and always striking. Like the nuns, she hardly ever looked in a mirror. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. “How do you feel?” she asked. Do you see why I have hidden the terrible things from you? I chose you because you are my perfect mate.
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