‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. In mid-bite, she heard a car door slam that was recognizable. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers.
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