1. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. "Did you write it?" "No. Take the one that struck him at this moment. There was the world besides, looming darker and larger. She lay and nibbled at a sprig of dwarf rhododendron. I give myself to you. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it.
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