Wood. The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. we’ll stop by the Amoco on Maple. \"God, it's too curly for a brush. It was so easy to forget the imminent threats of being discovered during times of peace.
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