“Better,” said Ann Veronica, with an unreal alacrity. No, this was not reasonable. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. He was completely, devastatingly handsome. Every one else does.
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