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to one another across years; in comparison, crossing a house was no feat at all. |
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He looked at her, his handsome features grave. "Look, Abby. I did a lot of thinking before I fell asleep last night. I" |
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"Hello!" cried Hannah's voice from downstairs. "I used my key this morning. Breakfast'll be ready in a minute." |
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"I'll leave so you can get dressed," Mike said, his voice low. "We'll talk downstairs." |
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Mortified that Hannah must know Mike and she had been together, afraid to think about all that had occurred, Abby studiously kept her mind blank. She showered, wrapped a towel around her, and fixed her hair, leaving it loose about her shoulders, for few women today wore buns or chignons. She wished she had a little modern makeup, settling instead on just pinching her cheeks. |
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Feeling a kinship with the more daring women of this era, she put on a pair of the jeans Mike had bought her and a loose short-sleeved blouse. Though the temperature here was not nearly as unbearably hot as in the desert, L.A. in July still was warm enough to make Abby envious of the women who flitted everywhere in the skimpiest of outfits. This combination was about as daring as she would get. |
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She realized she had avoided her thoughts as much as possible. A lot had happened between Mike and her yesterday. He knew most of the truth about herand, though he seemed regretful, he did not accept it. |
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