” “I know,” said Mr Manning, “I know these Dreadful Statistics. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Then he got up and left her. . He returned, sitting on the floor beside the couch adoring her and stroking her bare arms. “I’ve got nothing in the world to pack with except a toy size portmanteau. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. “All right, Dunster,” he said. ‘I knew I should find you still here.
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