Ann Veronica found herself in a little stirring crowd of excited women, whispering and tittering and speaking in undertones. ’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. Hope reared. "Fold it … under the pillow. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly.
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