” She glanced out of the window, and the distant trees were a froth of hard spring green and almond blossom. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. I’m fine. ‘What am I looking for?’ ‘A miniature.
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