There was, it might be said, a double illumination. Earles said persuasively. Hardened as he may be, that would touch him. Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. I’m sorry I ruined dinner. Meat pies with sweet crust were stuffed with macaroni, steaks of pork and beef were pounded thin and grilled rare, capons had been marinated in plum wine and cinnamon, and veal sausages stewed in cream were served over fine noodles: all the dishes that he loved were present.
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