62 <8> A FIRST DATE WITH JOHN DIEDERMAYER The weekend began for her with that luxury of all luxuries, sleep. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess. ‘As to that, I am a devil, say the nuns. That was the inconvenience of it; her head was swimming. She had taken care he should have this momentous talk with her on a garden-seat commanded by the windows of the house. She smiled.
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