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352 pages, Paperback
First published August 5, 2014
It was easy to believe that the rain threw itself at you personally; hard not to feel persecuted and aggrieved when it found its way into your boots, no matter how much grease you slathered on them. It blew in veils across the sides of the hills; whipped along the crests; and cascaded in streams down the valleys. The river had burst its banks; and the meadows beside it mirrored the gray sky. Turf squelched underfoot and supply carts sank into the mud, so that whole gangs who should have been building spent the short daylight hours sloshing about, clearing drains and filling potholes....
[A]fter another long night in chilly beds, serenaded by a ragged chorus of coughing and snoring, the builders woke to an innocent morning full of birdsong.
”We’ll help you round up all your men and beat them … You always think it works on us.”