Eleanor had blue eyes that simply danced, and her well-wrinkled skin was covered with large moles, as if she collected them. Her thin, gray hair was curled today – her hair appointment had been only yesterday. When she laughed, which she did often, her whole belly shook. "Why would I lock the door? I knew you’d be coming straight here after getting the paper. How is Roy this morning?" She giggled and tried unsuccessfully to stop. "You’re the one that has eyes for him, not me, Eleanor." "Really? Do you think he would be interested?" Her eyes danced suggestively. Ignoring her chatter, I held up the newspaper and handed it to Eleanor to read. She carried it to one of her white wicker chairs and sat reading the article before handing it back to me. "It said the same thing on the news this morning. The girl’s father is on his way here too," Eleanor said, putting her hand against her mouth as if someone else could hear her. "Word is that he...
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