pglaf. “Where am I?” he muttered. “It was unpleasant while it lasted, but it is over —and my toasted scones are delicious. She would write to Gerald. Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. " "What for?" demanded the turnkey. Gerald’s thoughts raced as he reached out supporting hands and murmured meaningless phrases to soothe. I packed them with the other few things I owned. "Put it under my pillow," he said. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige.
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