" Spurlock wondered if something hadn't suddenly gone awry in his head. ” She said, searching for her brassiere under his bed. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. Michelle tossed her hair like a young colt flicking its tail. But Ann Veronica had still to get to her chief topic. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told. He was daring enough to have seized and carried him off before the whole congregation, but he preferred waiting. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. I didn’t see everything last time. Cahill gave me a hall pass.
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