‘I’ll take wine,’ the lady said briefly, turning back instantly to Hilary. I have been sitting with him ever since. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted. I feel years younger, a man again. She was a lone white woman, therefore marked. But you have not finished surely.
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