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“He was swishing his hand absently through the rushing water, looking as pleased as a cat in a sunbeam. His beauty seemed to me to have assumed an even more ethereal quality since we'd stepped through the door--- was it my imagination? His hair was like dark gold lit by firelight.” — Heather Fawcett
He was swishing his hand absently through the rushing water, looking as pleased as a cat in a sunbeam. His beauty seemed to me to have assumed an even more ethereal quality since we'd stepped through the door--- was it my imagination? His hair was like dark gold lit by firelight.