He stared at ruin. Ruin stared straight back. He thought they was old friends. He felt on the stair where her papa found them bare they became familiar. When the papers were lost rich with pals` secrets, he thought he had the knack of ruin. Their paths crossed and once they crossed in jail; they crossed in bed; and over an unsigned letter their eyes met, and in an Asian city directionless & lurchy at two & three, or trembling to a telephone`s fresh threat, and when some wired his head to reach a wrong opinion, `Epileptic`. But he noted now that: they were not old friends. He did not know this one. This one was a stranger, come to make amends for all the imposters, and to make it stick. Henry nodded, un-.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
The script ran 0.001 seconds.
