“He lay quite still, in sole possession of Bagstone as was his right. The wind was rustling the trees and he knew from the precise sound of the creak in the upstairs window that it was coming from a little south of west. He listened, delighted, until it dropped to no more than a breeze, ticking off all the tiny sounds that the old house, relaxing, twisted out of silence. He was waiting for her, he and their house together. He looked around this room that Gally had made. There was a silve...r-framed photograph and he picked it up and gazed at her – the Gally who had arrived with this unexpected attachment, the Gally who had married this teacher, this temporary man, the two of them smiling together at their incomprehensible wedding. Could it still be a problem? He went into a dream, imagining that the police might keep the teacher, might lock him up so there would be nobody to fight for possession of the house, of Gally even, but then he came back to the pressing question: what if she didn’t come?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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