’ ‘Was it?’ Her lips twitched. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at once into a deep and refreshing slumber. His voice now had lost its ironies. “No. "You will find her new. His name is carved upon a beam up stairs. ” She whispered.
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