She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. Spurling, drily. She stood up and he sat down at the microscope, and for a time he was busy scrutinizing one section after another. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table. The whole affair interested him deeply. "Read the first chapter of Job"; beyond that, nothing. It throbs cruelly. She hung for a moment, and then went on, conclusively, “Until we have the vote that is how things WILL be.
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