I'm a graybeard, an old bachelor; so I am accorded certain privileges. "Your son is a lad of spirit, Mr. Anyhow, that is how things are. Because of the Dance. " "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. Dear me! if there isn't his knock. ‘Don’t be silly. " Again Ruth nodded. Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order. She dared not look directly at him, her head obscured by a gray hoodie, she had the slumped appearance of an androgynous adolescent.
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