“Sure, are you sure you’re okay?” He exited off the highway onto a quiet road and pulled over. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. Both McCloskeys disappeared on the same night, without a single trace. She stared. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear.
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