‘I have first some affairs to finish. Perhaps this was the real turning point: the hour in which the disordered mind began permanently to readjust itself. I’ve never had a homemade Thanksgiving meal like that. His mother's scream seemed again to ring in his ears, and he was so deeply affected that, fearful of exciting attention, he was about to quit the sacred edifice, when he was stopped by the entrance of Thames, who looked pale as death, with Winifred leaning on his arm. Twenty guineas, mind. Last week.
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