No doubt he knew enough of his world to recognise that he stood little chance against the word of a major of militia. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. The day was sunny and pleasant, devoid of chill winds. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. "We may trust him," he added in a whisper; "he is a staunch friend of the good cause. .
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