To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. The chapel was situated in the old ballroom, and from there, down a few stairs, the vestry had taken the place of the pantry next to the kitchens. ’ ‘Just what I thought, miss.
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