The temperature soared to one hundred degrees, sickeningly hot. Absolutely. . From one window the beach was always visible; from another, the stores. . Even her debt to him was a triviality now. Rain changed to hail, then 154 sleet, then snow. In the midst of them there was a cart with a man in it—and that man was Jack—my son Jack—they were going to hang him. ‘Jacques?’ she called out, forgetting the need for silence.
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