’ Upon which, she darted through the library door, galvanising both the sergeant and his two militiamen into action. “John! Welcome! Happy Thanksgiving!” Cathy cried, ushering him deeper into the house. . . It was noon when the caravan reached the tower of the water-clock. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket.
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