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This was evidently a sad afternoon for them. “Are you Mrs. Cuzak’s boys?” I asked. The younger one did not look up; he was submerged in his own feelings, but his brother met me with intelligent gray eyes. “Yes, sir.” “Does she live up there on the hill? I am going to see her. Get in and ride up with me.” He glanced at his reluctant little brother. “I guess we’d better walk.
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