The policeman raised his voice, slightly agitated. Manning loved her presented itself to her bloodlessly, stilled from any imaginative quiver or thrill of passion or disgust. He first met her when he had caught her smoking behind the Joliet LaudrO-Matic one cool overcast day in late August. She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. He could not possibly lunge in the confined space, and so had nothing to do but back himself into the chapel as fast as he could. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him.
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