I've been a thick-headed old fool. Pshaw! I--Pshaw!"
She moved to the dresser, removing pins until her hair fell shiningly
all over her, brushing through its thick fluff and weaving it into two
heavy braids over her shoulders. He laid hesitant and rather clumsy
hands to its thickness.
"Fine head of hair."
She jumped back as if a pain had stabbed her.
"Don't forget, Albert, to lock the downstairs windows."
He was full of new comprehensions.
"I understand. Take your time to undress, Lilly. I'll be about fifteen
minutes locking up, and I want to attach some new safety locks I brought
with me. Everything all right?"
"Yes."
"You don't need to keep the light burning."
"I won't."
He opened his lips to say something, but, instead, turned and went out,
the closed half of his collar drenched in perspiration.
When he returned, after a generous fifteen minutes, the room was in
darkness except for a thin veil of whiteness from the arc light in the
street. Between the sweetly new sheets the long, supple mound of Lilly
lay along the bed, her bare arms close to her body.
Her breathing was sufficiently deep to simulate sleep.
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