The bleak house stood at the end of a red clay path, surrounded by dead brown grass and skeletal tre
The bleak house stood at the end of a red clay path, surrounded by dead brown grass and skeletal trees and backed by a dark gray sky. Gone were the boulevards lined with trees and topiaries. No porte cochère to shelter aristocrats’ coaches as they disgorged visitors; indeed, no visitors. No servants, either, just one man, she had been told. -- source link
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