As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. There was something indeed holding the whole species back from the imaginable largeness of life. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. The point is, I know all the tricks in finding a man. \" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel.
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