Then she came a few steps to meet him. Every moment or two he bent over his patient. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy. ’ ‘Unless it is Captain Roding,’ put in Lucilla Froxfield from the curved back sofa on the other side of the fireplace. Wasting no time, he crossed straight to the shutters and opened them. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud.
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