I must tell you all about God’s land, this marvellous virgin country, with its silent forests and dazzling peaks. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. If ever I could bring myself to ask you any favour, I would ask you to forget even as I have forgotten. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. Ants.
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