It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. “I do not lay claim,” he continued, “to any remarkable amount of insight, but it is possible, is it not, that I have stumbled upon your present cause of distress. She heard the ocean in the distance, waves crashing on the beach, high tide. “I hate you because you are the Devil! Rot in Hell!” She was shocked at her own accusation, how she had savored the words.
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