What brings you here?” “I’m here to see my uncle. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress. “Well,” he said slowly, “I had met you three times—before Drummond’s dinner. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it. “I’m sorry I told you that, Michelle.
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