Yes, go on. Leave. You're always coming and going. The rest of us are stuck here. Do you think he'd still love you if he knew who you are? He doesn't really care—only when it suits him.
Did God ever cry over his lost angel, I wonder?
A man bumps me on his busy way without so much as an apology. But that is all right. I forgive you, busy man about town with the sharp elbows. Hail and farewell to you! For I, Gemma Doyle, am to have...
He's attracted to the smell of manure, Felicity says. You might wallow in the stables to bring out the full flower of his love.