The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava. There was no need of sowing suspicion when he wasn't really certain there were grounds for it. But then the features changed. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. “Well, you’ve seen the kitchen and the dining room, but did I show you the basement?” He asked. 13 with a latchkey went humming lightly up to her room. Did you break my mother's heart as you tried to break mine? I am no longer accountable to you for anything. “Sold again,” she remarked.
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