These sisters moved in a grown-up world inaccessible to Ann Veronica’s sympathies, and to a large extent remote from her curiosity. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. Wild," he added, laughing, "it must be a stronger prison than Willesden cage that can hold me.
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