She tucked her stick under her arm and re-read Manning’s letter. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the topic of many conversations. There would be no moon. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. "No—Sheppard?" rejoined Wild. Voilà tout. But also this must not go on. So it does.
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