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He did not look at her directly, though she fantasized that she could 141 feel his stares from the back of the class on occasion. “That sounds so uncouth,” she murmured. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note.
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