“ Benjamin Munro was his name. She mouthed the syllables silently, Benjamin James Munro, twenty-six years old, late of London. He had no dependents, was a hard worker, a man not given to baseless talk.… Kate Morton
“ You're a storyteller, Alice Edevane, Ben had told her late one afternoon, as the river tripped coolly by and the pigeons came home to roost. I've never met a person with such a clever imagination, suc… Kate Morton
“ Ben ducked beneath the arbor and paused by the fishpond when a memory crept upon him like a shadow. This was the spot where Alice had first read to him from her manuscript. He could still hear her voi… Kate Morton
