“I have a letter for him from his brother, which I was just leaving. "You!" cried Jack, scornfully. She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. She was drawn first by Miss Miniver, and then by her own natural interest, into a curious stratum of people who are busied with dreams of world progress, of great and fundamental changes, of a New Age that is to replace all the stresses and disorders of contemporary life.
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