Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. Doctors constantly admonished and offered weak consolation that most would have been hurt much worse from the type of fall he took. She could still remember his face, the perpetually wet lips that turned down at the sides, his drooping Roman eyes. Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. He might spend the rest of his days at McClintock's in perfect security. With your permission, I will go on in my own way.
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