She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. . But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. But there was nothing in her bearing that a passer-by would have noted, to tell of the excitement that possessed her. \"But nothing is going to happen.
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