Charvill’s fury was burning out. I think he got sick of us and he disappeared not one week later. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. Not with the unavoidable explanations, and the need to secrete the sword and hide it before returning the priest’s horse to its stable—which had been her excuse for running from Martha’s protestations. She was fatigued physically and mentally, and neither mind nor body could rest. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling.
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