He felt hands tugging at him, mysterious creatures with long fingers and sharp nails that pulled at his flesh. And she had been doubting since that walk in the Zoological Gardens whether, indeed, he did simply care for her. Why should God give particular attention to such a prayer, when He had ignored all others? Certainly there was a trap somewhere. He laughed reassuringly. We both understood that. My late husband, I mean. As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard his own name pronounced, and found that it was a hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. ‘I live in Kent.
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