After William gave the hostess a gift, and only heard the hostess calmly make a concise compliment to Shakespeare's sonnets, he gave up the idea of doing anything to support the hostess emotionally. Of course, only the heroine, who showed her composure in her gestures, knew that her disease could not be cured by others. Maybe love is really like what the concierge wife said, it is meticulous to wipe the excrement from the body of the incontinent partner, and wash the sheets without giving the other party a trace of loss of dignity. But who can deny what the heroine said? After touching the limit of love that can be lived or died, how can the feelings that are flat on a stable line back on the plane be called love.
View more about The Deep Blue Sea reviews
