But it  a kind of after-effect beimes rain of t you feel as if you er, but time it , it   I’d been breato speak, all tling to and fro, and ters and trol-stink and to me less real ty-eight years ago.

    I c noroug-place ts nose- bag. At t-s a iger sitting being-sergeant in  jacket, tig, is strutting up and doing ac indsor, God’s in ’s on tes and Og tting on t one anot doing anytly, just existing, keeping ted place, like a couple of fire-dogs, or the Unicorn.

    Is it gone for ever? I’m not certain. But I tell you it o live in. I belong to it. So do you.