“After all, why should he be surprised?” she remarked. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. But, you see, I’m smirched. She was in a very uncritical state that afternoon. “Well,” she admitted. He returned the locket without comment. She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign.
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