She looked at her for a moment fixedly. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. . The walls were pristine white and unmarked except for two sconces and a rather colorless Monet poster that had been framed in an expensive oak surround.
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