It was a habit of his to talk to himself. And Leonardo told me never to trust any man. It is not, my dear Veronica, that I think there is any harm in you; there is not. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness.
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