The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. By and by he gathered enough courage to lean toward her. They had not to tarry long. I don’t know. “You are coming right out into life—facing it all. She had seen for herself right up in the bedroom window with her binoculars when Joanie was gone shopping one night, right with her own eyes.
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