“—Robert Burton (1577–1640), English scholar and churchman. The Anatomy of Melancholy (1621). “Por Dios, Montgomery, I have never seen you act so ridiculously besotted. She is only a woman, after all, and not some shrine to worship. This is fast turning into a pilgrimage,” Alejandro said. Colin gave him a knowing smile. “Oh, really? I happen to remember a certain señorita in Argentina, and how you led me across forested hills, humid pampas and flamingo-coated salt lakes. I almost killed myself d...rinking maté with gauchos beneath the shade of ombú trees, and nearly drowned in the River Paraná, and all because you…” “All right. All right, point made. Forget what I said,” Alejandro grumbled. It was late afternoon and the sun was beginning its descent when Colin and Alejandro had their first glimpse of the lofty, pencil-shaped turrets that rose from the castle to dominate the hilltop. After a rather steep ascent, they rode through a park filled with chestnut trees, and spotted a few deer from the road, before they reached the château.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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