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jean 1 the thing i first liked about jean was when she spoke of her own confidence - something not old in her life - it was nevertheless there even in those words, and it grabbed you and lulled you both. not strangely, i became weak for jean, because sifting her nerve like powders ever finer were tiny passages sailed through unsure: doubt, unease, frustrated restraint, they grabbed and lulled her confidence, insinuated themselves inside her - she who was striving for a perfect surety. a communion and a peep show for me.
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