He did not have to. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. White told me where to find you. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. What better way to be rid of him? ‘Jacques,’ she uttered urgently. Too easily roused emotions and too little passion. ” “I thought I explained—” “I don’t think you can have heard me,” said her father; “I have told you to come home. " The doctor gave Spurlock's hand a friendly pressure. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form.
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