Sernoon because s get settled. Some days  like t. For one t of t er all t of it made

    bad trust in anyt mig to them.

    Mick did not  to go back into tayed. And s  to o talk to any of t but treet—and too burning . S puso  to a real piano I sure o myself thing I know.’

    t Portia ain kind of niggery craziness, but so Bubber or Ralp Portia  sopped ood very still, rubbing  on top of her head.

    ia t w would shink？

    S to  ruth.

    Mick  sloairs. S landing and  on to to make a draughe house.

    Mick stopped on t fligairs and sat dourned on he music. Maybe some good program would come on.

    S ied knots in trings of ennis s ia say if s aler anotime it  of  in a hundred pieces.

    But s it to herself and no person had ever known.

    Mick sat on teps a long time. Miss Bro turn on  t people made. S a long time and kept ting s.  like it tered in pieces and s keep it straig  it . I —I —I — s—but just

    was s know.

    After about an urned on t er Singer. ood in tes and  across to t come out ting s of t pulled over him.

    Sed for Mister Singer to come out of throom.

    and s th her hands.

    Maybe it rue t sop steps sometimes so ser Singer o Miss Bro kind of music

    kind of talk.

    Nobody kne either.

    Mick ed, and after a o the hall again.

    S  to his door he did glance down and nod his head.

    Micks grin rembling.  into  t mig to invite o see ed suddenly to go into his room.

    Sometime