The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. One glance through the window at that picturesque head had been sufficient. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness.
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