"Rot, weren't they?" "No. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. “Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. " There was a pause. She found a clean sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, glad to trade the wet for the dry. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. The highest form of knowledge was magic: the priesthood.
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