He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. “The things involved in it are,” he answered gravely. They were alike in one phase—loveless and lonely. He talked at the blackboard in a pleasant, very slightly lisping voice with a curious spontaneity, and was sometimes very clumsy in his exposition, and sometimes very vivid. ” “Oh!” he said, in a colorless tone, and with his eyes on her face.
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