Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. A young woman with a white badge on her arm stood and counted the sections as they entered their vans. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. You say I know nothing. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky. ‘Not if I heard him aright. ” “Of course you’re converted?” she said.
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