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As much as it killed her, she kept her mouth shut. Her back had stiffened, and her hazel eyes looked steadfastly ahead. “I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica. I do not know anything of him since I have fourteen years, and that he sent me to Blaye to be a nun. Spurlock mused over the previous night. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. But escape to where? She thought of the ships that sailed from the peninsulas to hot deserts where spices were traded. “Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica.
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