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“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. Miss Stanley threw aside a black cloak to reveal a discreet and dignified arrangement of brown silk, and then embraced Ann Veronica with warmth. “But Sebastian! I need them!” He smiled, not a smile of comfort, but a smile of terrible menace. But now it was all over, and Alice was getting on well. The nuns, they were very good with a whip.
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