Then it was the woman herself who was changed. God only knows what I have done, or left undone. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. But it is no longer necessary. ‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. " "But I never can forget it, Winny.
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