“He was no help to the police, just babbled on about how he was going to marry your Mom and how he was in love with her, that they he had lost his true love, Michelle insisted on repeating that to me, ‘He lost his true love. She read beautifully because the fixed form of the poem signified nothing. Pearls in the dawn light, flashing and burning! "You don't like your island?" "I hate it!… But, there!"—weariness edging in. "It is plain he has been destroyed by his perfidious accomplice," rejoined Thames.
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