" So saying, she retired, and Jack entered the cell. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. The women, Ann Veronica thought, were not quite so interesting as the men. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever. " "Can I have a word with you, master?" said Sheppard, approaching Wood.
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