She cried out with the pain of it. Yield, villain!" "Never!" replied Jonathan. “Yes. Smith, "upon my conscience. His car, a black Alfa Romeo, waited at the end of the subdivision. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. ” He smiled, and she felt love for him in that moment as the smile lit up his ebony eyes, eyes whose blackness seemed unfathomable. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. It is what I have wanted, what I have meant all along.
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