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Caucasian female, late 40s, with long, large blonde hair, and striking blue eyes, wearing white ski jacket and new Sorels.
Sanctuary Line, Jane Urquhart (McClelland & Stewart)
In spite of the times when she was home on leave and making every effort to pay attention to each of her old friends while her mind was thinking, thinking, thinking about one man. In spite of the way she returned to this house and collapsed into an orgy of confession with me as her unlikely priest, I couldn’t really hear what she way saying. Except, when one is set apart by passion and goes into the world of that secret, there seems no reason to take heed of anything beyond those gestures that protect the secret.
Her family has been protecting their secret so well, they no longer speak of it. They no longer speak. Not in seven years have they uttered one word. Not as hard as you’d think with only the three of them, each with day jobs and rooms in each far corner of the house where they retreat to their books and hobbies. And she knows what you’re thinking. What if they stub a toe? What then? But they were never allowed to swear, so why would they start now? Besides exclamations don’t count. In fact, laughter is encouraged, humming, and tra-la-la-ing even. It gives the neighbours comfort and provides good distraction from the fourth room in the fourth far corner of the house.