\" She replied. The real tragedy—which he sensed and toward which he was always reaching—eluded all his verbal skill. "Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. How are you?” “I’m fine,” she said, unaware of all events except for the voice on the other line. But don't thank me; thank Miss Enschede. ToC After running to some distance down Seacoal Lane, Jack stopped to give a last look at the vehicle which was bearing away the remains of his beloved and illfated mother.
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