‘That is what she wants, is it?’ ‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. If he hasn't a job for you, he'll know someone who has.
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