She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. She became more assertive, more defiant. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. No tricks would serve. Lucy didn’t seem like a teenage girl at all to Sheila and she knew it. She was making it up. “We have come too close together for me to believe it.
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