“That’s all very well when one isn’t the material experimented upon,” Ann Veronica had remarked. There is a small yewtree west of the church. Ah Cum patrolled the length of the boat innumerable times, but never letting his glance stray far from the gangplank. But she no longer obsessed over heresy, no longer did she feel cursed by God. “Second class,” said some one, but first and second were all alike to her. A slow anger burned in the man. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor.
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