She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. Earles said, rubbing his hands together, “by post. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. I beg that you will consider me your friend. They were in many respects so right; she clung to that, and shirked more and more the paradoxical conviction that they were also somehow, and even in direct relation to that rightness, absurd. The movie droned on, the sounds becoming manageable except for the frequent high-pitched screams of young girls when a poltergeist manifestation would leap out of a shadow.
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