The Old Television Studio, Chapter One
It was a curious quality of the boy next door that Jenny could never picture his face. He looked like one or two different people she knew, between whom she guessed there must already have been a resemblance. Sometimes she was certain she saw brown hair, and eyes that stared too much. At other times however every detail would vanish behind a shrouding mask of twilight, except the eyes. That shadow was before Jenny now as she made her final checks in the hallway.
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