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And turned to slide down the gentle slope of the swimming-hole boulder. Then he looked at Amy in the starlight. Only memories of childhood rested behind him. Or like Cleve Whistler, who sat on the porch, idly stripping thin slivers of bark from a hickory limb with his folding knife. Every one he had peeled and carefully knotted with his knife. He untied the four long leather straps lashed around the narrow bundle, slipped in the limb he had just finished, then retied them all together as tightly as he could before knotting the straps. She glanced around wildly, but the pinpoint radiances of the few candles in the room were not enough for her dazzled eyes to see anything. Christina squinted in the relative glare as the cabinets and wallpaper of the familiar room became visible again. She looked over her shoulder and saw Maria scowling. It was full of scrolls, poetry, and I could read them all. He was also handsome, or would have been except for an oddly formed, rather large nose with a high bridge to it and a pronounced aquiline curve. He was wearing whitish cotton shorts, like more or less every male on Bow Island, black or white. His orange T-shirt bore the familiar island logo or crest: the outline of a bow in black and a black hand drawing it back. This one read: THIS IS THE END OF THE SUN-BOW.
I like where I am-why would I want to live anywhere else. The kitchen was as narrow as a drainpipe and the bathroom was downstairs, behind it. She wanted her picture back-perhaps she was jealous, too. If she followed Aidan Seed to London, that suggests he was on her mind. Mark had no objections to starting a family sooner rather than later. She paused, and looked at Mark curiously as he sat awkwardly opposite her. She was watching him, meekly, sweetly. He had an innate feeling that this was his one opportunity, right here and now. He fell silent, appalled at how this seemed to be unfolding. Chloe reached across to touch his arm again, but he moved away. A bath, a bed and Sophie was a fantasy he hoped might come true. He wanted to touch the real Sophie, the lighthearted, silly woman that he sometimes saw, not the indifferent, slightly cynical girl that he was faced with now. He knew she had an incredible inner strength and she was fiercely loyal to those she loved. He wanted to know this woman, to feel what was in her heart and soul and to touch her there, as well. But how was that possible in just a single day and night. At least, when he was inside her, he could claim a part of her that no one else could.