Conquer the difficult situation in which she found herself. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. She recalled how she had stretched out her arms toward the magic blue horizon.
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