“This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. Ramage demurred. “Who are YOU that the world should lie down at your feet? “You’ve got to be a decent citizen, Ann Veronica. Miss Mary to the life, I said, and so she is. This getting up at dawn—real dawn—and working until seven was a distinct novelty. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. ’ Martha got up with a swish of her black habit.
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