She was like an angel with one wing. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. Did he not look for her in the morning when she entered—come very quickly to her? She thought of him as she had last seen him looking down the length of the laboratory to see her go. \" Michelle's mother replied from the front room in her sing-song tone.
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