"Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. . Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid.
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