"You know my fixed determination," he added in a low tone, as he passed the carpenter. Her tone was hoarse with passion. Only old librarians and Shirley Temples say that. Her parents totally look the other way. Saws, hammers, planes, axes, augers, adzes, chisels, gimblets, and an endless variety of tools were ranged, like a stand of martial weapons at an armoury, in racks against the walls. ‘Gérard, you are a great fool. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. No one had the resources or the inclination to rebuild them. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold.
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