An ugly flush stained his cheeks. She began to weep in long, aching sobs. “It’s the stir of spring,” he said. “See that man?” Sebastian would tap her on the shoulder on a crowded alleyway and say, “See how he lingers too long when he touches that little child? The glow in his eyes? That is lustful intent, my dear. And all the talk of the Miniver people and the Widgett people seemed always to be like a ship in adverse weather on the lee shore of love.
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