But I don't think you will, Henry says in a voice that is calm, almost soothing. There had been such a depth of ocean in the words McGrath had spoken,such a descent into stony caverns that all casualness was instantly denied. And he didn't know why the smell of cologne should make him think of coffins and graves and funeral flowers, but it did. He got up again and floundered around to the front of the truck, his jacket rippling around him and the legs of his jeans snapping like sails in a gale.
He had donned his sunglasses in spite of the day's niild gray light, but Freddy, his pilot, still only dared to look at him from the corners of his eyes. Flames slashed after the shrapnel, and erupted into the street. The tightwad French, Pete's Dad calls them. A few critters had gone walking along it, but most of the tracks only crossed it, west to east.
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