Once outside, she ran towards the playground, and the grotto, a miniature limestone version of the manor, which was in itself a miniature of a fortress. Swinging her arm in an arc, she let go of the foil and it flew across the chapel towards the main door, crashing down between the pews, and clattering onto the floor. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. ‘On the contrary,’ Gerald argued, frowning. If I can’t talk anywhere else—I DO want an understanding.
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