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Updated: May 6, 2025
I lifted my smarting eyes, and across the hot sheet-iron roofs I saw the country south a white-blotched reddish desert stretching on, desolate, lifeless under the sunset, to a range of stark hills black against the glow. "There are no private rooms, then?" I asked, choking with a gulp of despair. "You are perfectly private right here, suh," assured the Colonel.
She was straight in front of it, staring into its gray white-blotched bark. Now if Mother asked her, of course she'd have to say, yes, she had planned to, sort of but not quite. Mother would understand. There wasn't any use trying to tell things how they really were to Paul, because to him things weren't ever sort-of-but-not-quite. They either were or they weren't.
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