It was an impulse. It’s just like your Splendid Pride to do it. " Sheppard started to his feet. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. I’d only have to do something about it, and that I can’t. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. But though she lied about pretty much everything else, she didn’t lie about that.
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