?” she asked. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. His hand traveled below her loose neckline, and he cupped her round breast in his hand. ‘Knowed it the instant I set eyes on her.
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