"The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned."

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She bowed her head, clasping her hands tightly before her upon the arm of his chair, for her heart yearned towards him, yet could not reach him, and it made her throat ache with unhappiness to meet that look of his that rested on her face without seeing it.

— Georgette Heyer