He slackened his pace as he reached the flat. Now I’d like the rest of your story. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. He sent me flowers. I did not know what God had in mind then. “You MUST,” he said, “because of my depression. There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. Ennison stood by her side. It was a gracious gesture, she thought, as he trudged to the Beck’s humble doorstep in his stiff blue polyester uniform.
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