But I will never—never return. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. She wore a black satin dress, a little shiny at the seams, a purposeless bow of white tulle at the back of her neck, and a huge chatelaine. The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes.
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