’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. Non. He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone. And behind— there was Paris, memories of amazing things, memories which made his cheeks burn and his heart beat quickly as he sat there waiting for her.
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