That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. "Do you know what you make me think of?" "What?" "As if you had stepped out of some old family album. Anna made things for her. "But I happen to be an honest man myself. ’ ‘Ah, non?’ Her voice was neutral. He wanted to know what the joke against him was—if any. There were shadows under his eyes. ” Diane’s voice resonated up the stairs. She could tell that they too would find their legs jutting awkwardly from the petite furniture.
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