She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. “Like a stab. ’ ‘Ah, no?’ She saw his guard relax and lunged again.
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