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This spring was the most treasured possession of Kurt, since without him there could not have been a trout farm that gave him life. There was never a day when he did not inspect it, and it was very fashionable to keep a thermometer in it to see that the temperature does not change. He never knew a change of more than four degrees – from thirty-eight degrees to forty-two. When he picked up the thermometer, he noticed a flicker of white in the dark jaws of spring. Something rose, spinning in a rush of water.