It was one of the most educational disillusionments in Ann Veronica’s career. The black clad students streamed slowly to their positions carrying their instruments like offerings to the pilgrimage. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. “Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes.
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