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Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape. ’ Reminiscence made him smile. “We are not the sort that goes under,” said Ann Veronica, holding her hands so that the red reflections vanished from her eyes. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. We'll get those books into your room first.
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