Of what use was the temporary set-back to memory, when it always returned with redoubled poignancy? Then came another thought, astonishing. "You are my prisoner, Jack. Sudden indignation boiled up in him. ” She pulled her dress back over her breasts, glad for the elastic that she had sewn in. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil.
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