‘It is nothing. “Yes,” said Ann Veronica, trying to think where they were, trying to get things plain again that had seemed plain enough in the quiet of the night. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood. ‘Do you think it is the man in the moon that I mean? What is it that Gérard has told you?’ ‘That you need help. A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped.
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