I want my freedom. She noted the dank hair on his forehead, the sweat of revolting nature. Her voice recalled him. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls. The fire still burned brightly. Skiing trip. He began munching his water-chestnuts—a small brown radish-shaped vegetable, with the flavour of coconut—that grow along the river brims.
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