He sat up in his chair as though the question had stung him. She complained of the crowded cities, dismayed that the people were repopulating them like rabbits. Side by side with the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of swig, and a toast. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers.
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