His mind was filled briefly with psychic images of a charnel house that danced like a spider in his head. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. . I am sorry to seem to hurt you, but all I say is for your good. Bordered by fine timber, the road occasionally offered glimpses of a lovely valley, until a wider opening gave a full view of a delightful and varied prospect. A hush descended across the audience as instruments tuned, creating small ladders of fifths that collapsed abruptly, snatches of solos that disappeared and reappeared like gags in a house of mirrors. "What's the matter?" he cried.
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