She's got a heart of stone.
'It's Jonah,' Ted says. Simmy considers this. 'As in the whale?' 'Yep.' 'You know,' Simmy says, 'that people are going to say that to him for ever more?' 'What? The whale thing?' 'Yes.' Ted shrugs again. 'Well. He'll get used to it. All names have got some associations. Anyway, he looks like a Jonah. And I like the name Jonah—' 'Obviously,' Simmy cuts in, 'since you chose it.'
This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight, Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
That purchase put a bit of a dent in my wallet.
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