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Her voice was so unctuous that for a second I thought she was affecting it to mock him. Then I saw her false, pleading smile.

I crossed the room, borrowed raiment flowing

A stolid girl smiled uncertainly as she held the light-blinded eye of the reflector

Her voice deepened; it became fulsome, indulgent, almost smug

She spoke of fey youths she had known, of their clothes and hair, the petulant swing of their slim hips.