He returned, sitting on the floor beside the couch adoring her and stroking her bare arms. Over these hung levels, bevels, squares, and other instruments of measurement. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. She had found a couple of articles about him over the years, blurbs about the opening of a theater that mentioned him. “I am getting plain,” she said, with a little shudder. You don’t have to live forever to understand that.
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