But after a time I learned the ways of the parrakeets, and they would come down to me like doves in the stories. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. Oh! and love—love! We’ve had so splendid a time, and fought our fight and won.
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