“Here we are,” he said, “shining through each other like light through a stained-glass window. “But who could have lent you money?” “I pawned my pearl necklace. It was you! It was exactly you, but it was probably the photo they thought it was your mother! I dug it up after combing the Reader’s Guide To Periodical Literature for like, six hours straight. I don’t think that the rest of the people here like us very well, do they, Arthur, so we’re obliged to be friends. The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink.
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