I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. The father was a madman. ’ ‘Do not make a game with me,’ she interrupted, gripping her underlip firmly between her teeth to stop the threatening laughter. Unexpectedly he found himself speeding toward the father. For every Eden, there will be a serpent; for every sheepfold, there will be a wolf. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy.
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