“Tiffany’s?” He looked at her comically. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. Still, one never could tell. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. She started forward. “I’m thirsty. White and Miss Ellicot laid each a hand upon his arm, one on either side.
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