She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. “Let me introduce you to Caesar,” he said; and she patted Caesar’s neck, and remarked how soft his nose was, and secretly deplored the ugliness of equine teeth. The door leaned inward. He looked like a French boy soldier she had once glimpsed marching towards his death in one of the battles they would later call the Hundred Years War. “I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica. ‘Do not imagine that I will leave poor Jacques. 17 up-train.
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