Eyebrows knitting, she looked towards the ground a few feet away from him, guiltily. Toys! Delicate trifles! A sex of invalids. She felt him sometimes at night as he called to her in her dreams. “Maybe we could swing a scholarship to Boston College for you, you know, with your violin and all. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon.
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