He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. Lassitude?” “I suppose so. " Spurlock grew limp in his chair. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. They’re in grad school and they both live in New York. “You do not know what such a relation means. I'll keep it for your sake. ” “Try what?” She asked, coolly assessing his lithe hips. One or the other.
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