The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. 271 His parents suggested that he go into therapy. “Can Lucy and I go out for a walk?” Michelle interrupted the violin conversation petulantly. The curve of his shoulders, the very angle of his feet, expressed relief at her apparent obedience.
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