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He glanced up at Roding and met his eyes. ” She replied vaguely. He was staring at her, openly gaping. If I am to die in the attempt, then so be it. Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. “John,” she said, “I can spare you that question. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. ’ ‘From a convent? Even if I wished to do it, I could not.
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