His manner was deferential, even eager. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. Their heads touched again, their arms tightened. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. ” “You shall not need either,” Brendon said grimly.
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