From the spot he’s left her in, a blank, unshrubbed bit of service-yard where the earth is worn bald, she can see printed in black cut-out and lamp-glow, her own house.

The second bar in the Ancient Greek word barbaros is a reduplicant.

After a half-hour or so they fall again like a robin snow in spring and resume their feeding, white dots on the olive-brown of the long miles of saw grass that stretch away to the everglades horizon.

Sorry, I didn't get that. Could you repeat it?