“Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. This spike is more than half cut through. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so. ‘Come, Hilary. “Do you remember the mountains? Do you remember how we loved one another? How intensely we loved one another! Do you remember the light on things and the glory of things? I’m greedy, I’m greedy! I want children like the mountains and life like the sky. Lots of us are like that.
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