‘You would like? And do you imagine that I will tell you?’ ‘Won’t you?’ ‘No, a thousand times. ’ ‘Don’t talk soft,’ begged Martha. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. ’ Jack blinked. It was a dead calm. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. ‘Very well, Kimble.
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