“Shari told me. . ’ She turned and swept away from him, pacing the length of the room to the window Gerald had unshuttered. It was you, of course, whom he wanted. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in which Mrs.
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