You don’t know about Mary because you live in Kent. The world into which she was so boldly venturing was going to be wonderful, but never so wonderful as the world within these paper covers. Gerald glanced down and saw her dash at a spread of blood on his own hand, only now realising that her dagger had found its mark. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern.
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