Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his writings or conversation, never lost a friend. She did not speak to John in the week of school left after the Prom. He never asked questions; he never addressed his companions; and frequently he took off his cap and wiped his forehead. The latter were saved; but of the former nothing but the blackened stone walls were found standing on the morrow. Even the abstract paintings on the wall were gray. ‘You have a knack of saying just the wrong thing. People were passing in the street below.
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