I can't remember if I cried when I read about his widowed bride.

Below ground, in the maze of tunnels excavated by the rabbits over many, many years, five of our jill, or bitch, ferrets were running loose…. A white jill popped out of the hole nearest men slithered through the net mesh and disappeared down an adjacent entrance.

But as I continued to advance, the noise increased, and became like the hissing of an enormous tea-urn.

The bankruptcy and divorce, together with the death of his son, left him completely broken.