His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. "Do they treat you ill?" asked her son. ’. The next moment, a heavy plunge told that the fugitive had been consigned to the waves. Capes went first, finding footholds and, where the drops in the strataedges came like long, awkward steps, placing Ann Veronica’s feet. Nothing else was put in their place, and they remained sotto voce, as it were, in his mind.
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