As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her. ‘Yes, miss. Sleep did not come easily, but eventually her mind stopped its chattering and she fell into a deep slumber. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. "But we must be getting along if we are to lunch in the tower of the water-clock. ‘That’s why I never told Joan Ibstock that you were still with me when I wrote.
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