"It is droll," he said. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. "And on my part, I shall not lift a hand to defend myself. " "A fugitive. We are going to have this chap writing books one of these days. Then you won't tell me where he's going?" "I will tell you six months from now. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked.
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