’ She glared at Hilary. She did not learn the kind of looks she had been bestowing upon him at a convent. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. But she veiled her feelings. Then, as she was in the act of turning reluctantly away, she noticed a thin crack between the door and the frame. He laughed to hide his uneasiness. “Time for my Patience,” she said. You'll need all your strength to grab him.
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