Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on them. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. ” He found her bra beneath his pillow and handed it to her. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. . ’ Looking round, she found the little coterie of soldiers crowded into the passage behind them.
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