CHAPTER FOURTEEN
關燈
小
中
大
"Helefteverythingjustasitwas,"Bonamymarvelled."Nothingarranged.Allhislettersstrewnaboutforanyonetoread.Whatdidheexpect?Didhethinkhewouldcomeback?"hemused,standinginthemiddleofJacob'sroom.
Theeighteenthcenturyhasitsdistinction.Thesehouseswerebuilt,say,ahundredandfiftyyearsago.Theroomsareshapely,theceilingshighoverthedoorwaysaroseoraram'sskulliscarvedinthewood.Eventhepanels,paintedinraspberry-colouredpaint,havetheirdistinction.
Bonamytookupabillforahunting-crop.
"Thatseemstobepaid,"hesaid.
TherewereSandra'sletters.
Mrs.DurrantwastakingapartytoGreenwich.
LadyRocksbierhopedforthepleasure….
Listlessistheairinanemptyroom,ju
