The day was unseasonably humid and dark, a thick fog having descended over manicured lawns. ‘Hilary was right. “Do you remember the mountains? Do you remember how we loved one another? How intensely we loved one another! Do you remember the light on things and the glory of things? I’m greedy, I’m greedy! I want children like the mountains and life like the sky. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. ” He drank.
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