“I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. She painted on the Root Beer Lip Smackers lip gloss that Shari had bought her last Christmas and rouged her cheeks as she had long ago as she once had for Sebastian. “Sometimes it is not bad. She produced a handkerchief, and with one sweep of this and a simultaneous gulp had abolished her fit of weeping. The militia offered little in the way of relief.
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