His head cocked to one side, studying me. I think so, but I'd need to see the hair without the cloak to be sure.ĭoyle looked up at the mounds. I'd never heard him ask anyone's opinion of anything. Your thoughts are far away, Meredith, Doyle said. The mounds remind me of the plaza in Washington, D. I realized that except for the small knot that captured the front pieces of his hair, the rest of his hair was spilling out underneath the cloak, loose. The long feathers brushed his neck, mingling with the spill of black hair that was only partially trapped down the back of the cloak. What of him? Doyle turned his head to look at me as we walked. He kept walking but turned his face full to me, never missing a step. It startled me to realize how far away I'd been. I was still walking at his side, hands on his arm, but for a moment only my body had been there.
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