He saw the flames burst from the windows, and perhaps in that maddening spectacle suffered torture equivalent to some of the crimes he had committed. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. Besides, it was under false pretences. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. And here against a wall were the plumtrees. ‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands.
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