And because I could not choose just one...
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Cathy crouched so that the dog could nuzzle her hand. She still had no sense how such a thing might work, but the more time she spent with it, the less it seemed to matter. Such was the magic of an Emporium toy.
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She could not remain bitter, not for long. Bitterness was a kind of privilege afforded to those in better times
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‘Those two boys have been squabbling since they were young. But there was love in it back then. Tell me, Cathy, is there love in it now? Because all I see is hate …’
‘There’s love,’ said Cathy. ‘No understanding, but there’s still love.’
‘Well, that’s boys for you. All the love in the world doesn’t match a little scrap of understanding.’
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Robert Dinsdale,
The Toymakers (2018)