She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love. No one had the resources or the inclination to rebuild them. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. “Well, if I find your conversation interesting I shall listen. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. ’ Disappointment flooded her. One who—who—tres. Parbleu, but she was a fool.
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