Sara Darnell was a sprightly, svelte twenty-five year old who was known for serving detentions at meter maid frequency, if only to be taken marginally more seriously by the predominantly male Lincoln High Science Department. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Wood carved the ducks; Mr.
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