” Miss Pellissier was beginning to recover herself. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. How clever she was, to fool everybody so easily! Not yet had any one suspected the truth: that she was, in a certain worldly sense, only four weeks old, that her every act had been written down on paper beforehand, and that her success lay in rigidly observing the rules which she herself had drafted to govern her conduct. She recoiled. During the week, her uniform was the blue and white scrubs of a nurse, the job she had suffered at for twenty-seven years.
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