“Aren’t we all just odds and ends of humanity —the left-overs, you know. " "This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a powerful effort. The clouds were nearly black with rain, threatening to spill sleet in daggers and torrents. 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.
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