Courtlaw. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. 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. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name.
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