Webb, Kane
you know? With all the sellers with vegetables and fruits. I know they might not have much this time of year, but someone will have eggs, I think.”
Speaking of sharp turns: we almost ran over a meddlesome suburban dog (one of those who lie in wait for cars) as we swerved into Lawn Street. A little further, the Haze house, a white-frame horror, appeared, looking dingy and old, more gray than white—the kind of place you know ...
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