The crash was tremendous. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. " "Do not doubt me," replied Thames, warmly pressing his hand. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. ’ Pierced to the heart by the poignancy of this utterance, Gerald could neither move nor speak.
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