207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. She would compose extremely lucid and honorable explanations. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. ’ ‘Then leave me to guard myself, and do not ask me questions any more,’ she snapped, and crouched down suddenly, searching about for her dagger. " "I'm afraid I don't understand.
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