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Cathy answered the phone. Then she sat down—uninvited— and looked from one to the other curiously. If a cart were coming, or those labourers in the field had heard, escape was impossible. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. The last thing that she remembered was her eyes crossing as she tried to focus upon the crunch of leaves as she lay heaving upon them, dampening them further with the outpouring of her sweat as it leaked from her clothing. If I were a clean, free man—We’ll have to talk of all these things.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 22-09-2024 13:21:02