Was she so fearful still? Roding shrugged and grimaced. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. She made a slow tour of the front of the house without success, and then started back along the rooms behind, dragging open the drapes each time to get just enough light to recognise what was on the walls. Distress, deep-rooted, and age old.
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