‘She wants you. . ’ Baring his teeth in a smile of triumph that was every bit an animal snarl, and leaping up onto the seat of the pew he was in, he jumped hazardously to the next. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. He frowned. But be patient, I am your fast friend.
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