His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train. Kneebone, Mrs. Stanley. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. Hips tended to be the bane of Shari’s existence as she tried diet after diet to get rid of them.
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