Michelle's home was one of the smaller palaces, made solidly of red brick with charming black shutters and window boxes full of drooping violets. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. For aught I know, they may be in the neighbourhood at this moment. Gerald watched her vanish into the darkness, unusually incensed. Yet she held her tongue. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. You know, I’ve done no work at all this afternoon.
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