His first reaction had been explosive as the hurts of the past rose up to taunt him. Strewn across the bed was a multitude of jumbled garments. “Oh, Lucy. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. Look at the cock’s feathers, look at the competition there is everywhere, except among humans. Your speaking of the trial brings the whole scene to my mind.
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