Every time I thought Richard had gotten the last tears he'd ever get from me, I always seemed to be wrong. But it doesn’t matter. I don't think I wanted to know that last part. At the end of the left-hand bench, at the far end of the room, was agray-slate-colored counter, behind which two men were busily working.
Ignore it hard enough, and it never happened. Can you stand? Richard asked. Who's reading tonight? Nathaniel asked. If I remember right, you didn't like it much.
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