“He did say he loved me more than the sun,” she said, her voice as dry and brittle as ashes.
“Then I wish I had it in my power to make him live without the sun for the rest of his pitiful life.”
“That’s a romantic thing to say.”
He shook his head. “I’m not a romantic man, Miss Greaves. I don’t say things that I don’t mean. I find it a waste of time.”
EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP