His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. I suppose I was a little idiotic—I don’t think we either of us mentioned the future, but it was arranged that I should go the next afternoon and have tea with her. . She cried out with the pain of it. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch.
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