He walked her home. \"Did you girls finish your homework?\" Cathy's head appeared in the open door. This was enough for the poor widow. But don’t run away with the idea that I’m hanging out for a wife at last, because I’m not. Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested.
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