He waved an arm and spoke with a peculiar resonance. The echoes of his hard, unpleasant laugh reached Anna on her way upstairs. You have betrayed me. Saws, hammers, planes, axes, augers, adzes, chisels, gimblets, and an endless variety of tools were ranged, like a stand of martial weapons at an armoury, in racks against the walls. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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