She pulled a few strands of her hair from her head to leave with Michelle’s. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. Manning, and glanced round hastily for further horticultural points of interest in secluded corners. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. Her straight strawberry blonde hair was exactly Cathy’s. It isn’t law, nor custom, nor masculine violence settled that. She admired his backside as he fetched a blue towel from his bathroom. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. " "So did I," said Winifred. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears.
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