The Last Harvest at Montauk
I The garden survived the war. That was the first thing Julian Ashworth noticed when he arrived in Montauk, in the autumn of 1919, with a duffel bag and a discharge paper and a hole in his chest where his enthusiasm used to be. He had expected ruin—fields churned by artillery, hedgerows reduced to splinters, the kind of devastation that made you want to lie down in the dirt and stay there. But...
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