"No... he loved me." She covered her face with her hands, pressing them into the brand, momentarily forgetting that she had one. But the pain made her wimper and pull away. She held her hands in front of her face, visibly shaking. The biscuit lay on the floor, forgotten.
"Do you think he loved me? He loved me more, I think."
no subject
"Do you think he loved me? He loved me more, I think."