She turns into the circle of his arm, into his embrace, and leans her head against his shoulder with a sigh. Susan lets her gaze wander over the spring-green grass and flowers as she murmurs,
“Say sorry, Caspian. I didn’t mean to upset thee. We needn’t speak of it, if thee’d wish it so. It’s such a pretty day.”
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“Say sorry, Caspian. I didn’t mean to upset thee. We needn’t speak of it, if thee’d wish it so. It’s such a pretty day.”