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“Quite right,” she said. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. . [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Corporation. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. But he reckoned without his host.
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