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Russell burned like a beacon, but Capes illuminated by darting flashes and threw light, even if it was but momentary light, into a hundred corners that Russell left steadfastly in the shade. He spoke the automatic thought that entered his mind. “I supposed that he took off his hat to you. The stretch of red dirt disappeared into a stretch of trees like Van Gogh’s painting. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind. "I have hurt you because I would not trust you.
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