The two sisters were very fond of one another, I believe. Sir John hesitated. She sat in a chair in the parlour and regarded the darkening sky through the small casement window. ’ ‘True enough,’ nodded Martha sadly. It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. I miss them so.
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