I was his wife. Funk! I’ll see it out. And empty. Love lives on a higher plane. What the devil is her name, now we know she isn’t you?’ ‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea.
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