Her sense followed the shoulders under his coat, down to where his flexible, sensitive-looking hand rested lightly upon the table. By 12:30 a. Manning leaned forward on the table, talking discursively on the probable brilliance of their married life. Her mother did not seem to like the new doctor at all, shunning him with a near superstitious dread. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled.
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