“We are not the sort that goes under,” said Ann Veronica, holding her hands so that the red reflections vanished from her eyes. ” He smiled, and she felt love for him in that moment as the smile lit up his ebony eyes, eyes whose blackness seemed unfathomable. John’s demeanor shifted. I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. "Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. D.
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