She wished she could steal his smiles and keep them in a box, they had always been so precious. "If you get out o' that cage, I'll forgive you. ” She looked at him for a moment with fire in her eyes. Why did I not realise it at once? It just shows how one should not judge by appearances. “And where,” he asked, “are my rivals?” “Deserters,” she answered, laughing. “You do not quite understand,” she said gently. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. “You silly wimmin,” he said over and over again throughout the hearing, plucking at his blotting-pad with busy hands. Maybe half a year, counting this summer. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him. Sweet sixteen year old Shari, who never once figured out the morning sleep hangovers she suffered monthly. Gold-handled, too. “I’m not a good woman.
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