He gurgled as if trying to communicate. At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song.
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