That was the only sound he heard. The business of serving gave Gerald a few moment’s grace, for he was dubious about the effect on an elderly female, not in the best of health, of raking up old memories. ‘That’s why I never told Joan Ibstock that you were still with me when I wrote. The hills surrounded her cave home protectively. I suppose that shocks one’s ideas. “Do tell me all about it. “Often,” he repeated, a little heavily. There was a little pain, but it wasn’t anything. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house.
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