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Runaround StewsThere was just one thing to do: bide time, play along with Mike, do whatever he wanted until John came home and then she would spill the beans: she'd tell him everything, and if necessary, she'd pack her bags and split. "Nothing gained, nothing lost," she said, looking around the room at the fashionable splendor of her surroundings. John was crazy about handmade art and the house echoed his fine taste in decor like the antique Tiffany stain glass lamp that hung from a heavy iron chain from the rustic roof beams of the A framed ceiling that opened up into a glass wall affording a full breath-taking view of the 'magic mountain' dotted with trees. She looked through that window now and spotted a hawk circling gracefully in the strong mountain air current; its self assurance and effortless glide lent strength to her tortured heart. This was her heaven, her bungalow in the woods, and she hated to give it up, but reminding herself that a human life is far more precious than material possessions she resigned herself to her fate ...» | Код для вставки книги в блог HTML
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