“... My mother, daroga, my poor, unhappy mother would never... let me kiss her... She used to run away... and throw me my mask!... Nor any other woman... ever, ever!... Ah, you can understand, my happiness was so great, I… — Gaston Leroux Copy Share Image
“Parker would bring her. There would be no warning. One moment, he’d be tearing at his restraints, refusing to behave, and then she’d appear. Her face ashen the moment she beheld him. His angel always cried, fat tears rolling down… — Eve Langlais Copy Share Image
