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 smell of gunpowder was strong in the room. But I will go. It is impossible. Then he slapped his hand on his desk and looked up with the air of a man struck by a brilliant idea. He flung Ruth aside, careless whether she fell or not. She was too delicate, too fragile to survive out there. They came from every part, from the pit, the circle and the gallery, even from the stalls. He began to tell me something—and stopped.
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