“I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself. Besides, the sun had gone in and it looked like rain. I thank God for His sunlight on your face.
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