“What? She replied, still hazy. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. ” He stared at her, trying to guess at the mystery of her thoughts. “Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. “It was,” she admitted. Voting wouldn’t do no ‘arm to ‘er. He became primitive, literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, fairly relegated to limbo.
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