What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. “And you brought her a man, I presume. There is no Heaven for your mother. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. I couldn’t sit down for a week!” “Oh, how terrible for you. He shall have the estates. “As a second job?” “Right about five months ago when Larry fell off the truck and we stopped seeing each other, Cathy took a second job. “My sister is sure to be out. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out.
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