’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. He watched her, savoring her curious attention. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. “We are clerks in the same bank. Sometimes when adrenaline rushes through a body.
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