Late in July he finished the fourth story. "And I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. If they hadn't sent for me, you'd have pegged out before morning. When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects.
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