Come to Castlemoor
“When he came through the door, the narrow entrance hall seemed to diminish in size, and the sitting room, clean and comfortable with its beige wallpaper and white-painted furniture, seemed to take on the proportions of a doll house. He sat on the lime-green sofa, and I feared it would collapse under his great weight. He walked about the room, examining the black-and-white etchings on the walls, touching the white milk-glass vases, and the room seemed like an elegantly appointed cage designed to... confuse and confine a panther. On the first day he brought me an autographed copy of his book on Celtic folklore, on the second he brought a bunch of long-stemmed yellow roses which I promptly put in one of the milk-glass vases.
He was charming and completely at ease, yet I sensed a certain restlessness about him, as though his energy was so great he had to repress it, keep it under careful control when he was engaged in something as sedentary as talking with a young woman. His large hands with their broad palms and strong sinuous fingers seemed to have a life of their own.MoreLess
He was charming and completely at ease, yet I sensed a certain restlessness about him, as though his energy was so great he had to repress it, keep it under careful control when he was engaged in something as sedentary as talking with a young woman. His large hands with their broad palms and strong sinuous fingers seemed to have a life of their own.MoreLess
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