Abstract
the children at their games on lawns over the road would stop and weakly watch her pass babies wailed mothers clenched their faces and fathers remembered their youthful wishes to sit beside the black governess from the dark green hills and bite the evening's neck with her and the older boys stayed up scared all night to maybe catch her on a slow return but each dawn she tore past the milkman shied his horse squealing up through the hairpins toward her lair the dust hanging till eleven some mornings as a warning not to follow
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