She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. The Bitchster strikes again. Put your arms around her and tell her you love her. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. But I must, they say, and try to make me with the punishments. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. I'll think no more about her.
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