John finally wrested her away from the company of his parents, insisting that he wanted to take a walk in the park before it was completely dark. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. Her sensitive ears could hear her foster mother snoring in front of the television. ‘Please to sit, monsieur. It’s a beautiful plant, but a tender one. T. Winter came: rainy, damp, and savage.
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