It came into her head with real emotional force that this must be some particularly fantastic sort of dream. A handy knife, and a good tot of something sharp to clean out the wound. “See you. The veranda bamboo will be enough for me. ” She looked thoughtfully into the fire. But she was disturbed, mysteriously disturbed. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. White was scattered across the long stretches of pine trees and corn fields.
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