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We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe. Mirrors. \" Said John as he piled the papery remnants of their meal onto the tray. ‘Well! I hadn’t no notion as he’d got hisself married again. I hate to see you spoil yourself with guys like me. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. Something in her lack of embarrassment irritated him. To her horror she realized that she had nearly forgotten how to kiss after a years-long dry spell, and she could detect drool on her own chin and John’s cheek. ” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. She pulled the door so that it was not quite to, and held out her hand, palm up.
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