But the ten-times-fingering weed to hold you down in the dark where the tide has rolled you

[sovay]

I left the house to meet my mother for ice cream and pick up my copy of Forrest Reid's Brian Westby (1934) from Porter Square Books and there was a box on my front steps.



One copy went home signed with my mother. I'm keeping the rest. They have made this day much, much better.