I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. And let us go on with our evening.
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