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My grandfather was the chief cashier in the Treasury, respected and liked by
everyone who knew him, except his wife. He was a gruff man, Billy-goat Gruff we
children called him, but warm and loving with it. Tall and majestic, he always kept
He was no use to his grandfather while the rains lasted, and he had not brought
all the books and notes that he needed to get on with his own work. He might as
well go to Kurunegala, he thought, and do some combined study with Gamini.
Perhaps he did, and perhaps he should make a birthday resolution to join the
movement when his exams were over. Vijay was not sure. There were still ways
of helping people like his grandfather without having to overthrow governments.
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WHEN MEMORY DIESUser Review - Kirkus
First published in Britain, a novel that movingly details how three generations of idealists try to find meaning and purpose as their country, Sri Lanka, becomes another killing field. The author ... Read full review