She was ushered into the back of the squad car. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. She was trembling a little. ‘You! Have you pen and paper?’ ‘Pen and paper now, is it?’ grumbled the old man as he shuffled down the hall. He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him.
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