More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
He had sent Moses to mountain-climbing and Noah to boatbuilding; He had seen His own Son nailed up on a Tree. What did He care how miserably afraid Abby Freemantle was of the man with no face, he who stalked her dreams?
Love didn’t grow very well in a place where there was only fear, just as plants didn’t grow very well in a place where it was always dark.
