To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Ennison,” she exclaimed, “is that really you?” There was no sign of embarrassment in her manner. Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. ” “I wonder,” he said, a trifle irrelevantly, “what the future has in store for you.
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