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Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. They left the castle that day for another, packing with them the leftovers of the troupe that followed them from place to place, never asking about the occasional disappearance of one of its unlucky members. They walked in silence. Every old country church is beautiful, but Willesden is the most beautiful country church we know; and in Mrs. Then the storm broke. I leaned over and looked at him—he was quite still.
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