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Updated: May 24, 2025
"Good morning, Mr. McEwan Spring one-O-two-four," she greeted him. "'Morning. T'see Mr. Farraday," he economized. "M'st Farraday M'st McEwan an' lady t'see you. Yes. M'st Farraday'll see you right away. 'Sthis three-one hundred? Hold th' line, please," said the operator in one breath, connecting two calls and waving McEwan forward simultaneously.
Dave got through better, that forenoon, than usual. He made a three-one, while Dalzell scored a two-eight. Then this section, one of many, marched back. As Dave and Dan swung down the corridor, and into their own room, they halted, just inside the door, and came quickly to attention.
Then dawn came, rosy and bright, and all but three rose from the earth. The three-one woman and two children-had died in silence in the night, and they were buried, like the others, in shallow graves in the woods. But there was little weeping or external mourning over them. All were now heavy and apathetic, capable of but little more emotion.
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