![]() ![]() Ali, drawing up her short frame to its greatest height and assuming a brisk tone, so different from the low, accented roundness of her voice when it was quiet in the shop and they could discuss the texture and perfume of the teas she blended specially for him. "Senescence," they had called it in the Sunday paper. Ali?" There was a pause that seemed to expand slowly, like the universe, which, he had just read, was pushing itself apart as it aged. A quick rush of embarrassment flooded to the Major's cheeks and he smoothed helplessly at the lap of his crimson, clematis-covered housecoat with hands that felt like spades. She gave only the faintest of starts, the merest arch of an eyebrow. On the damp bricks of the path stood Mrs. Major Pettigrew was still upset about the phone call from his brother's wife and so he answered the doorbell without thinking. ![]()
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