Annabel, I cannot believe it. He began munching his water-chestnuts—a small brown radish-shaped vegetable, with the flavour of coconut—that grow along the river brims. He jumps the words out of your mouth; he takes hold of what you have to say before you have had time to express it properly. He ventured to the great gates, and by inserting his gimblets into the wood at intervals, so as to form points upon which he could rest his foot, he contrived, to ascend them; and when at the top, having fastened a portion of his dress to the spikes, he managed, not without considerable risk, to draw up his female companion. He often wanted only to drive with her in the car, both of them staring at the scenery in silence for hours. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. I believe I am doomed to be an old maid. He was suddenly calm. “The point is we’re not toys, toys isn’t the word; we’re litter. I don’t think we’re altogether to blame if we don’t take some of your lot seriously. And you need not fear that I shall not give back the sword when I have finished using it.
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