\" Diane Vorsack chirped with the grin of a Cheshire Cat, extending her right hand in greeting. "His lordship desires me to say—ough! ough!" Fresh groans and hisses. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. So he shut his eyes. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. I’m not a lovesick boy. So I had to buy out his interest, and it pinched me dreadfully to do it. But she did not speak.
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