Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Thought she was a nun at first. They were very nice about it, in memory of your father. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being.
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