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‘You could write a letter’

‘What kind?’

‘Invite the house And one of those children, God help theht seem like you It struck me, if you can’t have any private sense of destiny, iet it secondhand from your brother’s house See like that’

‘Foolish’

‘No, coe and children, too old for everything except experis work Sorandfathers, and soet a kick out of so like that?’

‘Too easy’

‘Think on it, anyway Don’t wait, or you’ll sink back into being nothing but a ain’

‘So that’s what I’ve been! Well, well I didn’t start out intending to be ot there somehow Are you mean, Bleak?’

‘No, because I knohat I did to myself I’m only mean in private I don’t blame others for my own mistakes I’m bad in a different way than you, of course, with a sense of humor developed out of necessity’ For a moment, Bleak’s eyes see sun

‘I’ll need a sense of humor fronarled fingers grasped Bleak’s hand

‘Why would I visit you, you sorry old bastard, ever again?’

‘Because we’re the Grand Army, aren’t we? You must help me think’

‘The blind leading the sick,’ said Bleak ‘Here we are’

He paused at the walk leading up to the gray, flake–painted house

‘Is that ly as sin Needs paint’