So far as the eye could reach, the white level road, with its fringe of elm-trees, was empty. Ruth read: DEAR SIR: "We are delighted to accept these four stories, particularly 'The Man Who Could Not Go Home. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. He looked at her with an expression of comical despair. There’s always friction, conflict, unwilling concessions.
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