‘No, let me guess,’ he interrupted. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. “It is unimportant,” she said. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him. Mike knocked on the door. Some part of the stiff vigour of the man seemed to have subsided. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down. Maybe half a year, counting this summer.
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