He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. 82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. " "What is it?" "That you give 'em to me. I want to know—just as much as I can. " He rose for fear she might touch him again. I did so. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. Rummage, my boy, do.
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