‘I am not a person, Marthe. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. I couldn’t help the thought. "I declare I'm all in a cold sweat. She said that? To be closer to you?” “I think she is plotting something, though I cannot guess what. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky.
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