“Well, anyhow, consider it open. And Mother trusted him. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. "You know not what you do. I’m sick of this town and I can’t wait to get out. “And I’m not happy. His example was followed by Darrell. Wait, though. He'd have enough to do to protect himself, without attending to you.
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