The son of Prudence instead was obliged to take her back to the convent on Sunday to see Martha and tell her the good news, and to fetch her meagre belongings. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. To walk beside him, dressed akin to him, rucksacked and companionable, was bliss in itself; each step she took was like stepping once more across the threshold of heaven. Lucy heard a stir, but if Dawn Plote were to arise and come into the room, it could only mean two murders tonight.
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