The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. I’m not half smart enough for the West End. 260 “Can you turn me into one?” “Yes, I can turn you into one tonight. "Your worry is needless. He turned, expecting to see his wife. Jack's complexion was that of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose.
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