"I don't know what I think," Wood answered sulkily; and he bent his eyes upon the water, as if he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the scene. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. They had been so considerate of the earth they had touched that they barely left a footprint. She felt the need to get dressed, sensing that his parents would be home soon. It seems to me just talk; it seems to me like the fancy of a dream. She was wholly unable to conceal her knowledge of his presence.
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