He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. She gloried in it: he needed her. Then Capes shifted his eyes to her microscope and the little trays of unmounted sections beside it. You would not have believed me, I know well. “I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said.
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