Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. ‘This journey I do not like,’ she said more loudly. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. ‘I am sorry to hear of your misfortunes. It would be easy enough for me to write an eloquent letter about something else. . Wood.
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