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Like when someone haphazardly left a stem of rose by their nearly empty glass. She’s run a quick glance and I tend to be the type to catch it. So we exchange with our eyes this quick, quiet conversation, perhaps mostly to each other’s satisfaction that voici there is another soul who notice such things and feel assured to have such quick, quiet conversation about it. I never saw her in a companion of others. Always alone she sat, imperceptibly slowly sipping her glass of wine. /3