Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. \"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile. We had better have it over. All at once they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. " Then he looked at Ruth.
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