She rose to the fire to stoke it. 2. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. The whole of that relationship persisted in remaining obscure. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. In the genuinely dissipated face there was always a suggestion of slyness in ambush, peeping out of the wrinkles around the eyes and the lips.
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