A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Anything that might stir the sense of love And God has mocked me through it all. \"Stop smiling, you're scaring me. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. “Dear old Daddy,” she said, “he’ll make a fearful fuss. These joyful bounds just lace into the stuff of my memories and stay there forever.
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