" "I don't desire it, Sir," replied Mrs. ” Ennison looked steadily at the cigarette which he was tapping on his forefinger. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. \" She replied. .
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