We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. “Of course it is okay!” Cathy’s voice rose in volume and in pitch. I've tried the plan, and found it answer. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. “I have not left this apartment myself. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees.
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