They were in many respects so right; she clung to that, and shirked more and more the paradoxical conviction that they were also somehow, and even in direct relation to that rightness, absurd. ” It was as if she faced a darkness in which was something very beautiful and wonderful as yet unimagined. “I like to think of your offer. . “And where are YOU going?” he said. ” She assented gently. It was you! It was exactly you, but it was probably the photo they thought it was your mother! I dug it up after combing the Reader’s Guide To Periodical Literature for like, six hours straight.
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