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. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. ‘Went to the dogs, did Jarvis, after Mary died. “I wish they did,” he said, “but they don’t. Darrell. Brendon. ” She nodded in the affirmative.
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