Other phrases returned now, like echoes. Wood in the deepest mourning. He’s dead. Smith's solitary orb followed in the same direction. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. “What has she told you?” “Everything. Anyway, I only smoke occasionally.
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