” “But how?” “I poured him out some port wine, and I said—let me see—oh, ‘You are going to be a grandfather!’” “Yes. And I get myself dirty. Look out, it’s coming. He’s dead. For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. " "And so will I," said Austin.
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