She was frowning, but it was evident that her initial fright had left her. ‘He arst me to find him someone who might go with you. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia. Conscientious objectors to that process are not permitted, she found, in Canongate.
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