“Yes, aren’t they?” said Ann Veronica, after a thoughtful pause. The Well Hole. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal.
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