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THE SPARK
himself all these years?" I asked. Alstrop was forty, or thereabouts, and by a good many years better able than I to cast a backward glance over the problem.
But the effort seemed beyond him. "Why—what years?"
"Well—ever since he left college."
"Lord! How do I know? I wasn't there. Hayley must be well past fifty."
It sounded formidable to my youth; almost like a geological era. And that suited him, in a way—I could imagine him drifting, or silting, or something measurable by aeons, at the rate of about a millimetre a century.
"How long has he been married?" I asked.
"I don't know that either; nearly twenty years, I should say. The kids are growing up. The boys are both at Gro-
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