You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London. He rolled on top of her, pinning her with his arms and forming a tented cage. The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. She perceived that his countenance was only composed by a great effort, his features severely compressed. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. So it would always be between herself and Manning.
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