1703. ToC After running to some distance down Seacoal Lane, Jack stopped to give a last look at the vehicle which was bearing away the remains of his beloved and illfated mother. Horrible details recurred to her. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. For a time it really seemed all-sufficient to her that she should love. But at the same time, I must say plainly that I think your presence here just now would be a great misfortune. The phone did not ring.
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