Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall. Warm reality was now so near her she could hear it beating in her ears.
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