"There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. You would be alarmed of how sulphurous it is, how sickeningly sweet. “Yes, I remember,” she said. She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who cared to listen, to be so very particular. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. . I hate to see you spoil yourself with guys like me. An uncomfortable silence followed.
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