When she released him he ran down the beach for a stick which he fetched and laid at her feet. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. He kissed her fingers and grinned. “I was lonely. The spinster saw herself growing warm again in the morning sunshine of youth —a flaring ember before the hearth grew cold. . The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue.
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