There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. The light touch of Ah Cum's hand upon her arm broke the thread of retrospective thought; and her gray eyes began to register again the things she saw. “The Widgetts,” she said. Mike was already on dishwasher duty when John rang the doorbell. He smiled tenderly. The true creative mind is always returning to battle; defeats are only temporary setbacks.
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