He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. All she had found was the love of this dog. A little table covered with a damask cloth was dragged out. All that she had ever loved were gone, except Sebastian. After the usual laconic greetings, he drew him on one side.
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