She perceived that his countenance was only composed by a great effort, his features severely compressed. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. The door leading to the front of the house was stealthily opening. Except for the dull eyes and the extreme pallor of his face, there was nothing else to indicate that he was deep in liquor. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone.
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