"Who is he indeed?" he muses. "He's a lonely man, Lizzie," he says in a low, sad tone as he turns to look at me. "He's a weary man who has seen and lived through too much. A man who has done too much. Some good, some bad. Some reversible, some irreversible," he wets his lips. "He's a man who's waited all his life for something,"
"For what?" I whisper.
"For someone to call his own," he states.
— Dec 11, 2024 07:58AM
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