Wood could stand it no longer. The house had in fact been converted into a convent, but the fact could not be advertised, not even in the Catholic enclave that existed in this part of town. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. I followed, taking up hunting so that way I could track you, to make sure you would become well again. But I liked the things you said here. ‘That was one of my own clever stories. Wood's. ’ Pierced to the heart by the poignancy of this utterance, Gerald could neither move nor speak.
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