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After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. She had found it in 1988, the year of the stock market crash. The door opened. ” “But your dinner!” she protested. You understand me, sirrah?" "Perfectly," replied Jack. 6. He thanked God for this talent of his. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night.
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