"And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. “We settled long ago—we’re hard stuff. The stranger turned his head at the sound. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. Books were always sliding and slipping, clumsy objects to hold. . It was painful to want him so much. " "No! I have run away from my father.
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