By this time, the procession had reached the west end of the wall of St. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. He often wanted only to drive with her in the car, both of them staring at the scenery in silence for hours. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. In a moment he was beside her.
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