“But I wanted to see you. He was silent. ‘Move, you. \" Said John as he piled the papery remnants of their meal onto the tray. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. "Are you his ghost, then?" "No—no," answered Jack. “Miss Pellissier,” he said, “I am going to take a liberty.
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