CHAPTER XXIV. There are boats on the lake and shady depths and wildernesses of pine-wood. Any man might have endeavoured to protect himself in this fashion, a man with no one to care, with an unnameable terror at the thought (as if it mattered!) of being buried in alien earth, far from the familiar places he loved. His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle. ” Ann Veronica picked a cornflower.
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