"Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. She gave her lips to his without resistance. “It’s—private. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. Probably something he had eaten. We've never caught him cheating at cards; too clever; but we know he cheats.
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