She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. I am not prying for my own amusement. But there was a face pressed to the glass. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. 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. She hastened past. I'll test him out later; see if there is any craving.
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