She played “Happy Birthday” for John, after which they plied her with a dozen requests. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. Between him and the beach stood the sum of six hundred dollars. I am a little afraid. I see now that you make a game with me indeed. I felt—wrapped in thick cobwebs. I will not trust you. For hours after she had not been sensible to life, only to exquisite echoes.
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