And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. . He was disquieted. The more haste, the worse speed—better the feet slip than the tongue. He sat down beside her just as the room became darker.
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