Manning loomed up ever and again into her world, full of a futile solicitude, and almost always declaring she was splendid, splendid, and wishing he could talk things out with her. Yeah, I’m thirty-seven. So am I. ’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing. His car was there. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours.
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