Paul took out a little box that instinctively I knew was an engagement ring.
“No, Paul!” I gasped again, trying to gain control of my wavering emotions. “I’m not marrying you! You know I’m not a woman. You must have seen that in the hospital!”
Paul got up, his face a mask, his angular chin jutting forward. He came towards the desk. I tried to shrink back into my chair, my hands gripping the silk of my dress tightly, though what defence that would have been, I’ve no idea.
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