" "May be," returned the man gravely. For a time they walked in silence. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. Ann Veronica said nothing. As for my past, Michelle, and Michael’s, it is a book of woeful chapters better left unread. “Because I know for a fact that she was having sex with Gary Rothko during homecoming Freshman year and she let him pork her up the ass. For this three weeks had been the hardest of her life. “Sebastianus? Where did my husband go?” He smiled at her gently, patronizingly, as he prevented her from movement or escape.
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