She had seen a man’s head steal out for a moment and draw the curtains a little closer. He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. It ought not to be much. It must have been impossible to see me through that much rain. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. He was an imaginative young man. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one.
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