There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. “I think everything’s right,” said Ann Veronica, with the roaming eye of a capable but not devoted house-mistress.
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