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She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. . We’ll go. You are the one person I can understand and feel—feel right with. He was carelessly dressed, and there were marks of unrest upon his features. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward.
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