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THE HOPE VALLEY LINE When our electrician was killed and the elms made a guard of honour, saluting him, shoulders braided with green, crowns embroidered--Elm hateth man and waiteth-- it was just another in the long line of deaths in these last months: the one who skidded down the dawn's black ice and shivered into a fireball, the one who lost control and died on a bridleway, and those who did not perish but are paralysed from their youth down. They have grown up around us, these tragedies. We glance ...