ou. to pick you up and kill you in t. But t you.

    t. You must  rational, or er, but t must  journey, not to Cairo.  racking me?” “No, I sao Italy and t you mig moved up t the foliage.

    “I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Almasy murmured.

    “Do you  morpting to place. I e man. It is difficult to realize I elligence. telligence who knew you personally.” “Bagnold probably.” “Yes.” “Very English Englishman.” “Yes.” Caravaggio paused.

    “I o talk to you about one last t o Katon?   before to make you all come to the Gilf Kebir again?

    After Madox left for England.”  I o make one more journey to to pack up t of t U. Our life t not  a year. A self sometic ed be, into seeming innocence of relationsher very much.

    During to go overland to truck. Clifton  of triangle t had grown up among us.

    , I eau. Clifton .

    to land, slipping from t tips its  ligops, it drifts to eartood c and I  of my tent al and ter t silence.

    teau. I arpaulin. Clifton dropped altitude and roared over me, so lo to t and circled, and sigself and came straigoy yards a suddenly tilted and crasarted running to.

    I t o be alone. But o pull , srying to move t of raig o be a mark on  o cus. I pulled  of ton  and carried o to tings itude °o’ on tude °!’. I buried Geoffrey Clifton t night.

    as I a curse upon t raped by  sand? t  it s of Libya. Remove politics, and it is t p  ongue turn a corner. Remember Dido in ts of Libya? A man ser in a dry place....

    I d