” “The truth,” she murmured, with her eyes fixed upon him. ” “No, mine. We haven’t. Once before—but that had been different. It was as if her finite human brain could only store a limit of information, details like hair color and fingernail shape easily jettisoned to make room for the nuances of a grin or the emotion of a shoulder blade. . Suddenly she became aware of the fact that he had brought no lunch.
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