“You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall. She had almost chosen to prostitute herself rather than live in that animal state once, but had found a warm cave in Kentucky just as situations had grown truly desperate. She crawled into her small bed, dizzy with the thoughts of him, of kissing him.
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