She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. She moved her elbow nearer to him and spoke in a still lower tone. She was dressed in one of those complicated dresses that are all lace and work and confused patternings of black and purple and cream about the body, and she was in many ways a younger feminine version of the same theme as himself. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively.
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