He could lose himself for hours at a time. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure. "I can't hold it much longer—it'll break my wrist. ‘Come, I am concerned merely for your safety, you know. ‘Obstinate fool!’ She saw Gosse raise a hand, and dug into her nun’s habit for the knife she had not thought to need. “We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared.
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