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Ann Veronica’s tense nerves started, and she stood still with her eyes upon him, wondering what it might be that impended. She was surprised to find how stored her mind was with impressions and memories of him, how vividly she remembered his gestures and little things that he had said. The waterman sheltered his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice would have been carried away by the violence of the blast. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets.
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