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. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. ” “How? Show me. ’ ‘Your groom? What for?’ ‘Get him to wait outside. She comprehends what we're about. Blue haze had settled beyond the black silhouettes of trees, graduating to the deep violet that began the night sky.
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