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Unformatted text preview: that he mustn't talk about Patrick and Alicia, that everybody knew anyway. But then what would they do when Ancient Evelyn started to tell the workmen to go home, or that they could not use noisy equipment? It was comforting to be clean. She thought again of Michael, the sleeping giant, in there in the witch's bed. She stood up and reached for the towel. She dried her hair roughly, tossing it forward and then backward, loving the freedom of being naked, and then she stepped out of the tub. The soft clean flannel gown felt snug and safe to her, though it was too long of course. So she'd pick it up like a little girl in an old-fashioned picture. That's how it made her feel. That's how her bow made her feel. Little old-fashioned girl was her favorite disguise, to the point where it wasn't a disguise at all. She rubbed her hair fiercely one more time, and then picked up the brush off the dressing table, stared at herself for a moment in the mirror, and then began brushing her hair firmly back away from her forehead and behind her shoulders, so that it would dry neatly as it should. The gas h...
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- Spring '10