No more scuffling. She lied. ” 174 < 21 > THANKSGIVING She padded softly up the old stairs, exhausted and elated. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. If hate could kill, Ramage would have been killed by a flash of hate. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure. Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. And Charcam, fearful of another charge in his master's present uncertain mood, disappeared. Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. He wondered if these abnormal mental activities presaged illness. The work of plunder over, that of destruction commenced. .
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