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“How many times have you fallen in love?” June asked her sister suddenly. The two of them were walking slowly from the wards to the nurses’ home. It was eight o’clock and very dark and still in the big park which surrounded the hospital. They came to one of the old ladies’ benches and sat down. It was a dim spot. June felt that she could phrase the tumult within her in the properly ridiculous phrases and not betray herself. Walking a little further they would have to enter the glar- ing reception hall of the nurses home and Adele’s sharp eyes could see that her face was flushed and her hands unsteady.

“Just three times,” Adele told her. ‘You know, I told you about that boy when I was thirteen and then when I was fourteen and then again just a year ago.”

“Tve heard you hint about that last ‘affair’ ”, June commented. “But if you’re perfectly frank with me, Til be prefectly frank with you. I want your advice.”

“Not my advice. You probably just want to get something off your chest.”