He had dungarees on and a blue work shirt. It wasn’t pretty. Traci moved out to L. Caliban sarch ebery hole in de place, but Shack no dere. She fled. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. "Good-b'ye!" And with a cordial shake of the hand he took his departure. It vosh plain he vent dat vay.
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