They stood for a moment in the passage and listened. “You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked. Stanley, consenting with dignity. “As a second job?” “Right about five months ago when Larry fell off the truck and we stopped seeing each other, Cathy took a second job. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. They’re just a joyous softening of the outline—more beautiful than perfection.
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