The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. "Come away!" he cried, with the roar of a demon. The girl’s eyes never left his face. " "So she may," returned Jack, brightening up; "it's a good idea. I want to fill it with fine and precious things.
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