She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. ’ Gerald considered. You will have a bungalow to yourself," continued McClintock, "and your morning meal will be your own affair. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. Wood's. He insisted once again on opening the car door for her. " "It's light. ’ ‘He did, you know,’ grinned Gerald.
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