The boy’s besotted. She were that miserable. I can vouch for that. “Bless you, sweetheart. Laughed at me, then. I was raised in the Church. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression. “Your mother was a Gypsy. I wonder, Ann Veronica, if, when our time comes, we shall be any wiser?” Ann Veronica watched a water-beetle fussing across the green depths.
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