Don’t, don’t say anything now, not anything. She went to the basement and shed her sodden coat and scarf, tossing them into her favorite modern appliance, the electric dryer. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. Leonardo had not taught her to do so. “Have to take your turn,” he remarked laconically.
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