” He called for a hansom. She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. She worried for Cathy, working double shifts at the nearby family restaurant to help make ends meet. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. I'll go alone. It’s made up of things as small as the diameter of hairs and big as life and death. " "Mr. Spurling.
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