" "They're not half heavy enough," replied Wild. "I yield to fate. They returned to the castle, neither of them speaking. John sat pensively in the back of his best friend's mother's minivan, piloted by his best friend Mark. Her aunt had secretly sent on to Ann Veronica some new warm underclothing, a dozen pairs of stockings, and her last winter’s jacket, but the dear lady had overlooked those boots. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food.
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