Her whole face stiffened with suppressed anger. His scent was like sweet perfume in her state, like the sweet smell of infants. His heart hammered in his chest. No tricks would serve. She looked at me as though I were some unclean thing, as though my soul were weighted with every sin in the calendar. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones.
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