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He was reaching wearily for some kind of buffer to his harrying conscience. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. ” She let him make love to her that night. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. ‘Don’t lose your temper again. ” He stalked around the room. She was always asking questions about her mother and supplying the answers.
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