She had flung away from her father’s support with the finest assumption of personal independence. He seemed to possess a penetration and cunning beyond his years—to hide a man's judgment under a boy's mask. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. This way, Sir Rowland. 1. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. It’s no good hiding it any more. It took her only two towns away, near the Arby’s where Mike worked.
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