She has power over men’s fates in more ways than one. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. “I wish you didn’t. ” “Mr. God must love me, for he has guided me here. ’ The questions that had long haunted her came out at last.
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