\" She rose to leave the kitchen. ” Lucy said, thinking of the Becks who worked around the clock just to keep a tiny house in the same neighborhood. Jolly nice girl, too. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. Her sadness was manageable only because she was so familiar with its phases, because she could observe its moods remotely, like an astronomer studying the moon. McClintock liked it. You might tell the truth to some men, but never to him. I can fairly understand Ruth; but you…!" "Have you ever been so lonely that the soul of you cried in anguish? Twentyfour hours a day to think in, alone?… Perhaps I did not want to go mad from loneliness.
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