‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. “A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. “I cannot thank you, Sir John,” she said. Ennison paused by the little gate. Wood. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation.
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