She pulls them further apart and sees that the full moon is shining in all its silver brightness over the gardens, so although it is the middle of the night, there is very little black in the picture before her, but various tones of charcoal grey and dark green, with every shrub, border, path and curve of lawn clearly defined, as if it was a dimly lit overcast day and not the witching hours of night. And there must have been a frost too, as every leaf is shimmering with silvery ice under the gaze of this bright light. It is Christmas Eve. Evelyn remembers that first Christmas at the end of
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