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All at once her heart began to patter queerly. She dragged the broken bottle across her carotid artery, creating an inch-deep gash upon her throat. ‘And how is it that you have acquired this garb of a religieuse?’ he asked as she fitted the veil over her head. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. Gerald kicked the panelled wall in frustration.
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