She thought of an old abandoned barn that she could inhabit further downriver, but shrugged off the idea in disdain. Men in this part of the world drink to forget the things they have lost. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. ‘Quite mad, nuns are. Wood. Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's—twenty miles to the northwest—for ice and mail. “Hey,” he said, his eyes slowly adjusting to the soft blackness.
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