Opening the door he then stepped into a dark narrow passage leading, as he was well aware, to the chapel. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. They were followed by Jonathan, who carried a stout stick under his arm, and planted himself near the stone. Come, make yourself scarce.
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