His fingers were on the knot again, binding and unbinding the leather closure on the ash-bag. Over, under, fold. Tighten. Undo."Needs to hold," he said."It held the first time.""It can hold better."
She reached past him for the ash-bag, close enough that her shoulder nearly brushed his arm, and lifted it before he could tie the knot a fourth time."Then come," she said. "Before you teach the cord to hate you."
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