“I am developing ailments,” she said, meeting his questioning eyes. He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch. "I have a client who is very much interested in Mr. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said. The crowd began to separate as it fell into the theater. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure.
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