I had often wondered, hearing this, how my mother must have felt then. She would have been young enough for this to be her first real contact with romance, and old enough to be intrigued by it. Did she notice, for example, while perched on her brother’s bike, or climbing the equipment in the playground, what it was like to have two people suddenly so concentrated on one another? How, even as they paid for her sweets, or bought her a ticket to the movies, their attention was rarely fully on the task at hand. How their jokes were meant to make only the other laugh, how happy they were? Did she
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