I’m not sure if Janine cared. “It’s the spring,” he said. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. ’ Melusine put her arm through his in a friendly way and moved with him outside to stand on the porch, leaning into him in a confidential way. Wood, in his Sunday habiliments and Sunday buckle. Her arms and feet were uncovered, and of almost skeleton thinness. “Much better. .
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