\"Hey, I'm Michelle. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. I asked him—to take me away. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. Then he turned to Anna. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. I do not wish to seek them out, en effet. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice.
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