So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. You left Hong-Kong at night, by way of the Pearl River, and arrived in Canton the next morning. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. ” She wondered what to. She was slowed down by the icy wind that punctuated itself in screams around houses and trees. I had a hunch. People running, screaming, hiding. Rage flooded her at his intent, but she controlled it.
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