He refused to believe that Anna was not ‘Alcide. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. “Ohmigod! You totally sounded like my grandmother just now!” Michelle exclaimed.
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