She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. Nothing has been touched since. “Of course it is okay!” Cathy’s voice rose in volume and in pitch. It was a betrayal of God and her former family, but all in all was much easier. It is her duty to tell me, and I would not have her think that I had been trying to work upon your sympathies to learn her secrets.
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