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Show 75, Jeffries, Islamorada "-Hunting north, now," he said soberly, in measured tones, checking himself on breath stops and the archetype, "in the immortal and equivocal pursuit. . ." "Yes," Rowena Emmerling had agreed, looking up at the winter sky, "Orion is the hunter I like. Tell me, in your opinion, my good man, is there a strange beauty, when what they call the dead of winter comes over the Ohio country? There's something I'm trying to get down on paper, here-" she showed him The seven sisters in the air The seven sleepers in the ground. . . "Yes and those would be your bats, bears, chipmunks, your raccoons, skunks, woodchucks, and. . .and. . ." he puzzled rapidly, looking around the lodge nervously and then pacing over to the window to stare out into the night. "And. . ." "And the jumping mice," she added, solving it for him. "I don't think there's many of them in these parts. But hey what's worrying you? I mean I hope I'd be the last one to pry, but if you wanted to talk, I'm buying coffee at Jack Horner's when I close up this park. . ." Damn, he reminisced. He had insulted her parents. Well every other time that Honda car had pulled up out front it had been her. And just when they were getting to like him. |