She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. Top-side insurance people. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. I waited for her at the back.
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