His eyes glowed beneath the glasses and his blue buttondown shirt was reflected in the lenses. He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. She replied, “I don’t care to draw attention to myself, Michelle. The young male, as she had actually seen him, had been of the sailor type, hard-bitten, primordial, ruthless. ” The conversation hung. Somehow.
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