’ ‘Yes, I know,’ Gerald put in with an irrepresssible chuckle. Her foster father had been outside for most of the morning, working on trimming the maple trees and mowing the lawn. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers. Except that this music we have been swimming in is divine. Her head swam.
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