‘Fiddle, Gerald. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. His foot touched the rounded edge of the starling, and glanced off, precipitating him into the water. I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. But this was long ago. "Leave him to me," he said.
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