But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. Gianfrancesco was not ugly, in fact, perhaps he was rather handsome after all. ” “And you can’t?” “I don’t think I ought to control myself. He worked afternoons, when everybody else went to sleep; he worked at night under a heat-giving light, with insects buzzing and dropping about, with a blue haze of tobacco smoke that tried to get out and could not.
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