. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. Her voice recalled him. She held up the lamp. “Never was such an age of transition. Jack had brought away the bunch of keys which he had taken from Quilt Arnold, but, none of them would open it. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. ’ He threw one arm across his own chest and clapped himself on the shoulder. For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame.
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