The irony of such a good looking boy--a boy who looks good, that is, who looks clever and pretty and respectable--coming to her. She laughs her throaty, smoke-stained laugh, and hands him a pipe. Harbert stares. He had only wanted to take her picture for Gideon, and the photographical equipment feels awkward in his hands. Suddenly he laughs, too, clear and gentle and the laugh of a boy who grew up somewhere different from everyone else. She can't help reaching her bent hands up to touch his face.
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...My God.
The irony of such a good looking boy--a boy who looks good, that is, who looks clever and pretty and respectable--coming to her. She laughs her throaty, smoke-stained laugh, and hands him a pipe. Harbert stares. He had only wanted to take her picture for Gideon, and the photographical equipment feels awkward in his hands. Suddenly he laughs, too, clear and gentle and the laugh of a boy who grew up somewhere different from everyone else. She can't help reaching her bent hands up to touch his face.