He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. ’ *** It must have been fate, Gerald decided, near an hour later, staring intently at the closed French windows on the raised alcove that led out to the terrace. All that she had ever loved were gone, except Sebastian. He strangled the infant, which slipped out of his hands and screamed. F. The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady.
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