Certain phases of irony always caused him to chuckle audibly. On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. She cried for hours but would not scream as her mother was packed into a marble coffin. The future was not so black. The spring can't be opened on this side. "You needn't gag me," he added, "I'll not cry out.
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