Once more he was the searcher. “I’m sorry Mister McCloskey! I was out seeing my boyfriend!” He stared at her concernedly. “I do not even know who you are. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. “I do not know you,” she said coldly.
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