” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. Thwart me, and I become your mortal enemy. It’s my choice, Lucy. People were not slaves to their gods as they are now, oppressed and unhappy, chained to their mortality and suffering so that they may one day enter an imaginary Heaven. ” She stopped abruptly, afraid that Ramage might be able to infer Capes from the things she had said, and indeed his face was very eager. I’ll be waiting for you outside. She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut them from view … for ever. "Take this key to Baptist Kettleby. . More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition.
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