His lips were tight drawn. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. ” “Who cooked it all?” He asked. I think a wife a needless incumbrance, and mean to die a bachelor. She held her hand to the place where he had slapped her. Her father had smiles ready for her, he seemed to be truly happy with her for the first time since her infancy. 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. Spurling.
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