“My Mom was a good lady. Her eye met his four inches away, and his was glaring, immense, and full of resolution, a stupendous monster of an eye. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again. He was human.
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