” “It’s so strange to think of you—troubled by such things. “I heard the clock strike as I crossed the square,” she answered. She got up early, and walked about the garden in the dewy June sunshine and revived her childhood. “Martin, you realize that I’m dating someone, don’t you?” She knew his reply before he uttered it. She let Jack go as he passed through the opening. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust.
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