153 The halls emptied with special urgency as teens rushed forth into heated cars and buses to make the mad dash home before the coming storm. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. . Ann Veronica watched her and wondered about her. But a man is a mixed creature. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. . ’ You used to declare that you hated the name. You don't want me to spoil the story, do you?" "No.
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