He would have to probe further. ” “No? But it is very simple. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. " "The pianist?" "Yes. And now she was discovering that even Nature was something of a liar, with her mirages and her horizons. You were with your mother, the two of you huddled like thieves, laughing at the silly women who tried to shield themselves from rain by cowering under empty baskets and shawls.
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