She turned back into the hall. . You know you don’t mean it. . He insisted once again on opening the car door for her. It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. Her eyes quizzed the major.
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