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“Nicole Smiled at him, making sure that the smile gathered up  everything inside her and directed it toward him, making him a profound promise of herself for so little, for the beat of a response. Minute by minute, the sweetness drained down into her out of the willow trees. She stood up, and stumbling over the phonograph, was momentarily against him leaning into the hollow of his rounded shoulder.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald (Tender is the Night)