It was a shock, with her so young. Thejacket certainly caused me no regrets; a mistake of my young manhood, itlooked like something from the Beatles' I Am the Walrus era. It wasmid-September, most of the summer people were gone, and the crying ofthe loons on the lake sounded inexpressibly lovely. Just about barely.
s the message,and who was trying to send it? I remembered clearly what I'd said justbefore passing from the dr :was the last dream I had in what I now think of as my Manderley theculminating dream. Buck and Slim came round and they al talked about how it was Labor Day and wasn't it hel to pay that they weren't going out anywhere. The bluegreen yel owgreen patchwork fields covered the steep hil s like an oldfashioned quilt.
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