Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. One would think I had agreed to her going. . That’s— that’s my private life. ‘Word has it that she is English on her father’s side. Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the topic of many conversations. It proved to be a human head, though with scarcely a vestige of the features remaining. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure. Mercifully, the Peters had moved to Rhode Island about six months after the tragedy.
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