Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side of the chapel. He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. ‘You’re as mad as she is, Gerald. If that's true, she's not long for this world. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall.
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