And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. The bliss had lasted one hundred and forty years, far more than an entire mortal lifetime.
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