He turned round toward her and found her looking at him and standing very still. Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. I should have known at a glance if it was. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. She had refused to eat human beings when she had first learned her fate. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. The new-comer looked at Charcam.
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