He looked at Hilary and nodded. He saw his father, calling to him from an icy white tunnel, beckoning to him. She made a slow tour of the front of the house without success, and then started back along the rooms behind, dragging open the drapes each time to get just enough light to recognise what was on the walls. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it.
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