They joined the rabble of aspiring James Deans in torn jeans and bomber jackets and girls with Clairol black hair smoking clove cigarettes. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again. "Besides, you'll not be able to get in without me. She was leaning over him and he smelled her like he had never smelled anyone before. People, nobody, can do as they like in this world. She was a woman now to the tips of her fingers; she had said good-bye to her girlhood in the old garden four years and a quarter ago. This was what he missed. I’ve got imagination.
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