He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. You understand me, I’m sure. They are their mother’s sons. Ogilvy was full of a client’s trouble in that matter, a grave and even tragic trouble. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes. If the boy was legging it alone….
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