The dance itself was anticlimactic, with teenagers trying their best to look the part of adult sophisticates on the dance floor. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. Hill lost a little of his truculency. “I would like to go home,” she cried, “to please her. “Yes. Then Anna spoke more seriously than usual.
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