The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. "The traps!" responded a bystander. ” “Don’t imperil my reputation before I am established,” she answered, smiling.
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