“Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. In his condition the boy apparently had been as safe as in the lock-up. It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. They smelled good, but they no longer smelled like food. The impassivity of her features changed at last. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding.
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