a few feet from the botelha plot was another headstone for enso 's friend , jacome pascoal . he reached into his pocket and pulled out an old cloth pouch . he opened it and inside was a handful of old coins . they were the coins he had been given by enso all those years ago when he was a child . he looked at them briefly then dumped them back into the old pouch

seamus threw his arms around mody and gave her a big hug . '' ok , time enough for that later , '' said mr. elf . '' it 's time to get away from here . '' '' how do we find hag head again ? '' asked seamus . '' she said to call her name and she would find us , '' replied mody

not smart . not smart at all . '' '' i figured you 'd be happy , '' the caller said . '' figured i was callin ' the widower of a murdered wife ' stead of some dumb ... '' '' dumb what ? '' pruett growled . the call disconnected . pruett wondered about how much stock to put in such a call

just the two of them , sitting down . we think of ourselves as creatures marked by a particular intelligence . but one of our finest features is the inability of our expectation to truly simulate the experience we are expecting . our anticipation of joy is never the same as joy . our anticipation of pain is never the same as
pain