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"Really, listen.
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Ahem.
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Look.
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Dear Sal, sweet Laura.
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I've come, I've gone, but wait, ah, yes,"
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and he stared with rocky sorrow into his hands.
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"Can't talk no more.
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You understand that it is, or might be, but listen."
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We all listened.
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He was listening to sounds in the night.
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"Yes," he whispered with awe.
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"But you see, no need to talk anymore and further."