I have weird skin. ’ Gosse blinked. He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. As Mrs. Sensing his discomfort, she stood up and brushed lint off of the hem of her gray miniskirt.
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