She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. ” “I suppose so. ‘Lord in heaven, could it be so?’ ‘Don’t look at me,’ exploded Hilary.
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