She traced him by his scent. They said no more for a moment, and each was now acutely aware of the other. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. The lantern was on the ground inside, ready. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade. That old world that had shoved up that silly old hotel, and all the rest of it.
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