The Wistful Voyage
The harvest feast was laid out beneath the high beams of Pemberton Weir in the old manner, and I stood at the head of the long table as my mother had stood before me, and her mother before her, a line of women who had held the Autumn Sitting for three hundred years, and I confess I took a kind of cold comfort in the arrangement of silver and the smell of roasted venison, because the Weir Court...
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