She could still remember herself at age five, staring knives and daggers at the men who came into the small yarn shop, under pretense of business but really just to leer. His red hair marked him, cut short into a round shape that had the texture of a Brillo pad. “Thanks, Mister McCloskey. " "At all events, let me send her away, my dear," supplicated the carpenter, anxious to avert the impending storm. By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. Let us part in peace.
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