"Can't!" repeated his mother. But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad. She entered the room in the shadows. She felt that she became more familiar with the floor during the time that he stayed than with any particular person. "You are my prisoner, Jack. "Yes. The idea of Ruth as a talisman against misfortune—which he now recognized as a sick man's idea— faded as his appreciation of the absurd reasserted itself. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream.
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