He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. Sheila had dropped glaring hints that she knew, which Chuck tacitly acknowledged with a lowered gaze. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. But her request was unheeded. Like the parrot, she could memorize the lines, but she could not understand them.
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