In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. Between him and the beach stood the sum of six hundred dollars. Could she hold him and manage the reins? If only Gerald had not gone. ” “To know things by name is one thing; to know them by seeing them and feeling them and being them quite another.
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