She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. She recoiled. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. Find that boy. The chapel was situated in the old ballroom, and from there, down a few stairs, the vestry had taken the place of the pantry next to the kitchens. “For Heaven’s sake, no,” she answered quickly.
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