It was if the world had blinked out for a moment. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. She did not remember how many seasons it took before she relented, how much time before she decided to toy with his affections. Cathy got a second job as a receptionist. I killed him, Nigel. "The marriage was never consummated," continued the imperturbable stranger.
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