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. What of it?” There was a shout of laughter. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. ‘Sapristi,’ he shouted angrily.
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