“You must send for the police at once, you know. If the boy was legging it alone…. "'Under the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. To return. I do not care in the least. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable.
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