He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. " "That's what troubles me," rejoined Ben. It was an impulse. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. \"Mom! You’re home early!” Michelle exclaimed. " The Wastrel laughed.
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