Dixon, our, um, Lives? are in Danger?" "Hardly enough to interrupt a perfectly good-" Here he is silenc'd by an immense Thunder-Bolt from directly overhead, as their frail Prism is bleach'd in unholy Light. "- Saturday Night for, is it I ask you . . . ?" his Head emerging at last from beneath a Blanket, "Mason? Say, Mason,- are thee . . . ?" Mason, now outside, pushes aside the Tent-flap with his head, but does not enter. "Dixon. I will now seek Shelter beneath that Waggon out there, d'ye see it? If you wish to join me, there's room." "Bit too much Iron there for me, thanks all the same.
( Thomas Pynchon )
[ Mason & Dixon ]
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