“Pain beyond measure.” Barnaby nodded sombrely, perfectly happy to wallow. (He did not have people to wallow with nearly often enough – the Livings simply weren’t made for mournfulness the way he was.)

“At least she is at peace,” he said, half in comfort and half just to complain about his own plight once more – “I shall never know it, while she walks beside me so near and so impossibly far.” At least this man’s dead wife was out of sight, if not out of mind. He stood a chance of getting over her.

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