Steve Thoms Sunflowers Field paintingSteve Thoms Sunflower Field paintingSteve Thoms Poppies painting
as it had been; there was mid-winter in Sebastian’s heart.
The weeks went by; we looked for lodgings for the coming term and found them in Merton Street, a secluded, expensive little house near the tennis court.
Meeting Mr Samgrass, whom we had seen less often of late, I told him of our choice. He was standing at the table in Blackwell’s where recent German books were displayed, setting aside a little heap of purchases.
‘You’re sharing digs with Sebastian?’ he said. ‘So he is coming up next term?’
‘I suppose so. Why shouldn’t he be?’
‘I don’t know why; I somehow thought perhaps he wasn’t. I’m always wrong about things like that. I like Merton Street.’
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