" The Wastrel laughed. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. ” “That’s if we succeed. The life of a young girl is set about with prowling pitfalls. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. Still, they bob up occasionally. Loved his memory still, for all he knew.
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