Trees were torn up by the roots; many houses were levelled to the ground; others were unroofed; the leads on the churches were ripped off, and "shrivelled up like scrolls of parchment. The pistol, it was not loaded. And I think I will indeed blow off your imbecile head. 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 do you think I can blame you for this, Marthe?’ ‘I blame myself. She wants that and needs it more than anything else in the world.
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