Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. He was conscious of a quickening of his heartbeat and the familiar rise of adrenalin that sent his senses soaring in anticipation. Something about the girl had suggested an idea. They stopped talking, except to each other. Of course, I don't believe she's what you would call flush. "If I had, you'd not have seen me here," replied Jack, sullenly.
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