’ She shrugged. But after the first shock came a warm glow of relief. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. The couple reappeared from behind the curtains, both visibly shaken. "You can no longer refuse to tell me the name of this youth's father, Aliva," he said. "How long shall I be here?" he asked. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly.
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