Luck. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom. ” She looked at him; his face, downcast and in profile, was handsome and strong. It’s kind of the World War II thing. What is done cannot be undone. I’ve been waiting all my life to get out of this town.
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