’ ‘I also said, if you remember, that I could not promise not to do so. For it was not a good thing to like one man too much when one was going to marry another. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. It is a precaution merely. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. ‘In that case, he is probably already dead, and you have nothing to worry about. From the beginning. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said.
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