" The little urchin set off, and presently returned with the sexton. Wood was once a favourite of yours. “How could it not have hurt?” His analytical side started putting in overtime. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. ‘But so also it is downstairs. Trees were torn up by the roots; many houses were levelled to the ground; others were unroofed; the leads on the churches were ripped off, and "shrivelled up like scrolls of parchment. “I ought never have gone to the Zoo, I suppose. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. . .
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