Peter Ackroyd

“He stood beneath the white tower, and looked up at it with that mournful expression which his face always carried in repose: for one moment he thought of climbing up its cracked and broken stone, and then from its summit screaming down at the silent city as a child might scream at a chained animal.”


Peter Ackroyd, Hawksmoor
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Hawksmoor Hawksmoor by Peter Ackroyd
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