Her eyebrows, pulled down by the stress of thought, now resumed their normal arches; and pleased with her discovery, she smiled. They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own. She showered after she heard the door shut and the cars pull out of the driveway. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. ‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly. It may be instinctive; it may be that children vaguely realize that at the end of all wedding journeys is disillusion.
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