Suddenly he stopped short. ‘It is what my father intended. She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. Sweatshirts and sweatpants were in for a while but they’re out now. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream.
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